The Nymph and the Waterfall
by Pastiche Pen
Summary: Someone is spying on Bella at an "inconvenient" time. There's a gnome and a crap ex-best friend. All-human.
1. Prologue

Author's Note:

So, you clicked on my story...

Yeah, imagine Alice chasing Bella with an enormous plastic dong while Edward cowers beneath the couch.

Uh-huh.

That's the sort of humor you are about to wither your mind with.

My sole warning. Hence, the **M**.

Long story short, I had this series of funny events play out in this brain of mine, and I just started writing. This is my first AU-All Human story. As a heads up, the theme songs here are: _I Touch Myself_ by the Divinyls, _Wild Child_ by Enya, and _Blister in the Sun_... just so you know how and why Bella is ridiculously OC. Also, I've been listening to the Juno soundtrack and Jason Mraz for most of the writing, so it's sort of cheerful, too.

* * *

Prologue:

In Which I Fail to Adequately Explain Myself

~ * ~

I think it happens to almost every girl.

You're merrily riding along on your bicycle or a bumping along on a horse, or better yet, you just straddle a couch cushion—and the jolt shoots up through you—and it came from _down there_. In the first millisecond you fear you've hurt yourself. You want to jump away from your own body, like you would from static shock or if you felt a creepy crawler on your leg, but then, you realize that the new sensation is definitely _not _pain. It feels _right_—like you've unlocked an ancient, secret code. You begin to understand that the _nether_ regions can also be the _pleasure_ regions, and all of that, so yeah, anyway, well…

_Be honest_, Bella.

I'm rambling because I'm self-conscious, and because it happened to me, too.

This is the story of how I, Bella Swan, developed my obsession with the waterfall—the waterfall that changed my life—the waterfall that helped me discover myself—and most important of all, the waterfall that introduced me to _him_.

This is my tale of mortification, dumb bitches, fake war paint, cave-men antics, an angel, and of course, the waterfall.

So, be a dear and bear with me.

~ * ~


	2. Captain Hook

Chapter One:

_Captain Hook and the Perils of Fishing_

I was smack in the middle of puberty. Fourteen years old and a "late bloomer." Not willowy—_twiggy_, and about as graceful as a giraffe on ice. The only positive comment I could make about my teenage ungainliness was that my skin was zit-free, even if I was as pasty as a grocery store wedding cake.

I arrived for another summer in the tiny town of Forks, Washington to spend time with Charlie—I mean, _dad_. And of course, I hadn't even been in Forks for two days, when Charlie got this fancy little idea that we needed to go _fishing_.

"Billy Black invited us to go fishing with him and Jacob."

"Eh, Jacob?"

"His son. Rachel and Rebecca won't be around."

"Oh, uh, dad..." He and I had been through this before, and I was about to inform him that on my list of things I'd like to do, fishing was just above being _water-boarded_...

But then, Charlie being Charlie, he gazed down at me and gave me this ridiculously hope full smile, but it wasn't just his mouth that smiled, it was his whole face. The fan of lines around his eyes crinkled, and his dimples deepened. It was the smile that reminded me I barely ever saw him anymore.

So I got _so suckered_.

"Sure, dad." I even gave him a smile back.

Needless to say, the next day we drove out to the river. It was a typical day on the Olympic Peninsula, meaning it was misting slightly and the sky was overcast. Charlie nodded with satisfaction as we made our way down to the bank. "Good fishing weather," he noted.

I did not make comment.

After saying my respective "hellos" to Billy and Jacob, I went to retrieve my book, preparing for the long haul. But the book wasn't in my bag. The book wasn't in my truck. The book wasn't anywhere. There weren't _any _books anywhere. It would seem I had left my copy of _Crime and Punishment _at home—and no one else had brought any alternative reading material. Thus, there was nothing to distract me: just a river, two old dudes, and an overly excitable twelve-year old boy. _And fishing did **not** count_. Therefore, I tried to amuse myself by taking the various flies and bugs and fishy-looking miscellanea out of Charlie's tackle box and assembling odd and colorful chains. That's right: _bait hook necklaces._

After I could take it no longer, I collapsed unhappily onto a weather-beaten log and decided to plead my case to my father. "Dad, I'm bored," I informed him.

Charlie appeared to notice none of my teenage attitude. "Well, pick up a pole, Bells and give it a reel. You don't know what you're missing." And then he gave me another crinkly-eyed smile—_crap_.

"Dad," I warned. "I am _clumsy_. I'm going to harpoon someone."

Charlie's brow furrowed with concern as he considered this.

Jacob stepped in to help then. "Don't worry, Bella, I'll show you," Jacob offered. He looked _eager_.

I gave him a weak smile. It was meant as an advanced apology. It was obvious he had no idea of the peril he was putting himself in—but he took my smile as an invitation and began cheerfully explaining the steps of fishing.

First, he lugged over a massive white plastic bucket. I looked inside. The bucket was full of what looked to be peat and worms. The longish worms were wriggling and squirming and twitching.

_Uck_.

Jacob's fingers dug into the soil and picked up a squirming little sucker. He held the worm tight between his fingers, picked up the hook, and then spiked the hook through the brown worm flesh. The worm, thus impaled, flailed miserably on the hook.

I cringed and then frowned sadly. _Pooooor wormy_.

Then, either failing to notice my reaction or simply choosing to ignore it, Jake gracefully demonstrated how to cast. He showed me how the reel worked and the proper angle to cast, and then he made a long graceful cast out into the river. He made it look easy—maybe even easy enough for clumsy Bella, in fact.

_Huh, well, why not?_

I gave Jake another weak smile, and I reached for my sacrificial little worm.

"Sorry, wormy," I apologized in earnest and attempted to needle him onto the hook. Wormy parried my attack. He zigzagged at the last second, and yet I still managed to get him. I got him, but I did not hook him, but rather, I sliced him in two.

"Holy crow." I looked down at the two pieces of twitchy worm.

"Dang, Bella, there's a whole bucket full of bait. Don't worry," Jake assured me. He laughed as he swiped the two worm halves from my hand and tossed them into the river.

I frowned at both him and my now slimy hand. I wasn't about to explain that an entire bucket of worms was at stake.

And then Jake gave me another worm.

I held up wiggler number two. "Sorry to you, sorry about your brother just now, and sorry for the rest of your progeny," I apologized in earnest.

I saw that Jake was looking at me with an apprehensive expression.

I smiled to reassure him, and then focused back on the worm. I held wormy carefully between my two fingers and held up my hook "in the position." I took a deep breath and then I stabbed.

_I got him!_

Along with my _index finger._

The sting zipped through my finger, and I yelped, frantically flipping my hand to get the worm off. Needless to say, the hook and wormy number two went airborne in the fuss.

Charlie tossed Jacob the First Aid kit, muttering, "Can't leave home without it."

Jacob calmly squeezed disinfectant into the small puncture wound before smacking a small bandage over it. I held my breath through the whole process. Thankfully, there was almost no blood. Just worm guts.

"Maybe, I should handle this step from now on." Jake chuckled as he picked up the next worm.

I'd intended to glower at him, but instead I found myself laughing idiotically along with him. There was something just so _likable _about the boy, and he was sorta cute. He had really rosy, plump cheeks on top of his russet skin and looking at them made me want to pinch them, but I decided that would be _annoying_. I didn't like having my own cheeks squeezed, so there was no reason that I should be assaulting Jake's—even if they were all cute and pretty and little boy-like…

Jake finished his task, and Wormy the third was in place and ready for takeoff.

I followed Jake's instructions to-the-T: hold the rod out front, turn body at a quarter angle from the desired target, reel up the line until the bobber is six to twelve inches from the rod, take the rod behind you, and then when the rod is at 10 o'clock, hit the button and release.

I did this. I took the poll, casted, and released the line, but my fears screwed with my cast. I pushed the button too late, and thus, I launched the line all of three mighty feet from the shoreline.

I looked down at the sad display of wormy and bobber sitting on a patch of river weed.

Sensing my dismay, Jake patted my arm. "You want me to cast with you, Bella?" he offered kindly.

I nodded yes—I could use whatever help I could get, apparently.

Smiling a bit nervously, Jake gently picked up my hands one-at-a-time and repositioned them so that I wasn't holding the pole like a baseball bat. Then, Jake wrapped his arms around me, carefully moving my arms in sync with his to demonstrate the proper motion.

I saw Billy and Charlie smirk at each other as they watched us.

_Bunch of weirdos._

After a final test to make sure there were no snags in the line, it was time for the final act. On the 1, 2, and **_3_**, the pole swung back and snapped forward. Jacob nudged my finger off the button at the last second, and Wormy the fourth went soaring into the middle of the river.

_Hook, line, and sinker!_

I was so proud that I clapped—at which the men-things all collectively hissed.

Jake looked at me with total seriousness. "Try not to make any noise. It scares the fish."

I glared at him. _Changed my mind again__—fishing still sucks._

And then it sucked even more, because my bobber was out in the river with my worm—but _nothing _was happening.

I stared at the bobber. "How do I know when it's ready?" I whispered.

"It'll move," Jake replied with a shrug.

I stared at my bobber again and decided that the bobber on my line looked wiggly.

_What the heck, come on Wormy the Fourth!_

I began reeling in the line. The little red and white bobber swam towards me.

I picked up the bobber and line.

The hook was _empty_.

"Bella, it wasn't ready yet!" Jake exclaimed, setting down his own pole.

"Wormy the fourth must have _drowned_." I sighed, distraught. I absently handed the hook to Jacob, who patiently speared my fifth victim for the day.

"You want to do this one on your own?" he asked.

"Like this, right?" I did an example-cast.

Jake gave me a funny smile. "Yeah, that's it."

"Okay, I got it," I said with confidence. I was actually determined to catch _something_ at this point—even if it was a rotten boot, so without further ado, I flung my line back, and I cast.

Two things happened at once.

The cast did not swing forward, and Jacob screamed.

I turned around.

Jacob had a hook in his nostril.

I needed to do something—_anything_—to help, so I made to leap forward, but then, the rocky bank beneath my back foot crumbled. My other foot kicked back in an attempt to gain balance, but it didn't meet ground. Instead, I felt it sink down through the layers of squirming mush.

The worm bucket.

And then I fell back down the bank onto my butt, and the bucket tipped back and the mass of worms and peat came sliding down on top of me.

I wasn't sad. I was mad, and when I'm mad I cry, which is stupid, but still, I couldn't help it, and I was crying. Not only had I poked a hole in my new friend's nostril but I had killed and swam in the blood of not one, not two, but probably twenty or fifty wormies.

_Wormy-freaking-genocide._

_Okay, maybe I was **sad**, too._

Charlie rushed over to us. He helped me sit up so that I was no longer sprawled in worm porridge, and then he helped Jake with his wound.

After the hook was out and Charlie gave Jake the "all clear," I crawled over on all fours to apologize.

I gave Jake my most penitent expression. "I'm _so _sorry, Jake. I never meant to…"

"No, no, no, Bella. It's fine, really. _I_ should have known better," Jake muttered through a smile.

I had to admit it to myself that this was _true._

Jake interrupted my ruminations. He was concentrated on staring at his nose puncture in a small mirror. His next question surprised me. "Hey, can I nab one of your earrings, Bella?" he asked without looking up.

I looked at him confusedly, but I did as he asked and unpinned the small gold stud from my ear.

He picked up the disinfectant and poured it over the small earring, and then, he shoved it through the new hole.

"Jake!" I yelled. "What the... are you doing?"

"You don't like it?" he asked with a grin.

I stared at the new "piercing." Strangely enough, it was perfectly centered. "Well, no, I mean I didn't say that—but I just hurt you—and that hook was coated in worm innards—and is that really _safe_?"

Jake held up the disinfectant and waved it in front of my face. "Between this and a tetanus booster, I'll be perfectly fine. Besides, now every time someone asks about it, I'll have a story to go with it. Pretty sweet, eh?" He took another glance at his nose in the small mirror.

I frowned at him. My guilt was quickly dissipating and being replaced by irritation. The idea of Jake spreading "clumsy Bella" stories did not amuse me.

Jake saw my expression and laughed.

"Come on, Bella, you need to wash up." He wrinkled his nose at me. "You're covered in worm goo, and I know just the place we can go without disturbing the old men's fishing."

He pulled me toward the forest, and I followed him.


	3. Upon Acquaintance

Chapter Two:  
In Which the Nymph Acquaints Herself with the Waterfall

~ * ~

"So, where are we going exactly?" I asked as we hiked through the forest. As we walked, my sneakers made constant awful squishing noises, a dirge a la worm slime.

"One of the hot springs."

"There are hot springs over here? I thought they were only on the Westwood Resort?"

"Nah, Westwood wishes they had these, but these're on the rez's land—so Westwood no can _touchie_. They're a whole heck of a lot cleaner, too—since they don't have all that sun block, perfume, and the other crap the tourists slather on to contaminate them."

We were moving steadily uphill now. I was carefully maneuvering around porous rocks and thick roots. The forest was particularly vibrant here, and it felt like we were swimming as we pushed forward through the foliage, thick ferns and velveteen moss brushing against us the entire way.

We broke out of the trees and found ourselves in a breathtaking meadow. I glanced about, taking in the beauty of it, but Jake grabbed my hand and pulled me into another line of trees.

Up ahead, I could hear the faint sounds of rushing water. Jake increased his pace and started to skip through the trees. I started to fall behind. I was not about to skip.

Skipping + forest + Bella = broken limb, concussion, and twenty stitches. I'd been there before.

Jake disappeared through the trees. From up ahead, I heard a splash.

"Jake?" I called.

No response.

Once again, "Jake!"

Nothing.

I threw caution to the wind. I ran through the bushes, pushing branches and tree limbs out of my path. Suddenly, I realized that the ground was no longer beneath me. I was falling.

I made a catastrophic splash.

"Hiya, Bells!" Jake called.

I could vaguely see him through the mist.

"Jake!" I growled furious. "I can't believe you did that to me! You were there, and then you were gone—and then I was falling and—I'm completely soaked, Jake!"

"Geez, Bells, calm down. There was never any danger."

I tried to growl again, but he looked so pathetically endearing that I just ended up frowning somewhat ineffectually at him.

He chuckled at my expression. "So, what do you think? Cool, eh?"

I finally stopped to take in my surroundings. We were in a sort of natural grotto. Dark, purplish rocks created natural walls. The rocks were coated with thick acid green moss and flowers with rich scarlet petals and deep purple leaves. From above, graceful willows hung down, vine-like. I noticed immediately that the water in the pool was much warmer than the air outside. As Jake had promised, it was a hot spring, a natural geothermal phenomenon common to this area. Most impressive of all was the waterfall. It poured down from a cleft in the rocks above. When the cool blanket of water from above hit the hot water below, a natural mist was created, turning the already mysterious cavern into an ethereal, almost magical place.

I felt like I'd just unlocked the door to the Secret Garden or stepped through the wardrobe into Narnia.

"Eh, helloooooo. Earth to Bella!"

Jake was calling me. I realized I'd never responded.

"It's beautiful, Jake." My voice sounded very drunk.

He chuckled again. "Yeah, not many folks know how to find it—even on the rez. As you saw, you have to drive out here, and then hike a long distance, so mostly it's just the La Push teens that come out here. There are other hot springs closer to the rez—so everyone else just uses them."

"Are they as beautiful as this?"

"Nah, this one is the best."

"So, how do we get out?" I asked curiously. There weren't exactly any stairs.

"Oh, I was just about to head up. I need to let some of my clothes dry. We use those ledges right there to climb out." He pointed to a slanted crevice on the west side of the pool.

"You want to hand me your shoes and whatever else to hang up to dry?" He turned a little pink as he asked.

I giggled. I pulled off my sandals, scrubbing them slightly with my fingers. And then I yanked off my shirt. I had a black sports bra on underneath—women ran in those things all the time, and it was black, and I was flat—so no big deal.

Jacob turned red. I giggled even more, as I handed him the various articles. Jake took them and quickly scrambled up the slant.

I relaxed and floated on my back, closing my eyes and shutting out the sounds of the world around me. I could smell the faint hint of sulfur from the spring and the gentle ripples of the current in the pool. I sensed a thickening layer of mist settling on my nose, cheeks, and forehead.

I was awoken from my reverie by a cool tickling on my toes.

I realized that I had drifted toward the waterfall.

I stood up, and stretched my hand into the flow, feeling the water run through my fingers. The water was tepid but not hot, and the pressure was firm but not harsh. I leaned into the wall of water. I felt it pour over my face, washing my hair down my back and sliding off my shoulders. It felt wonderful; a billion times better than my crappy shower at home, in fact.

I lay back again, floating on my back, and pushing gently off the rocks with my toes. The water swept over my face and my neck. The water pressed down the like the most skilled masseuse. I clamped my fingers down on the rock on my side, gripping so that the water wouldn't push me under. I floated further out, so that the current pounded down my torso. That tickled in funny way—not just on the surface of my skin but underneath, too. I released my arm then, letting my toes be my only grip on the rocks, so that the stream of water flowed down my body toward my legs and then…

Holy crow. That was when I felt it.

I felt it down there—in the nook between my legs. The warmth of the spring and the pressure of the water seem to condense and just flare out before sucking back in and then shooting out again—and I realized that my toes were no longer gripping the rocks and the pressure of the water was pushing me gently underneath the surface.

I surfaced with a hacking gasp. Ingesting sulfurous water is not an experience I'd recommend.

"Bella, are you okay? I heard a strange sound—like a cat or something."

I looked up through the mist to see Jake leaping off of the crevice and splashing into the pool.

"Noise? I didn't hear any noise," I said in a strained voice. A_ noise_? I had made a cat-like noise?

Jake was giving me a quizzical stare, and then I saw his gaze drop briefly as he focused on my boobs. Dang it all, I was nipping—and my twelve year old buddy couldn't help but stare. I cleared my throat.

Jake looked a little flushed, as he saw that I had caught his gaze. "Eh, well, we should probably get going. There are mountain lions out in these woods, and we shouldn't provide them with unnecessary temptation."

I nodded mechanically. I was completely discombobulated.

I swam to the edge of the pool and Jake showed me how to climb up. When we reached the top, Jake collected our clothes, while I sat on the edge of the wall, staring down at the grotto and the waterfall.

"Ya ready, Bella?" Jake called.

I stood up and took a step to follow him, but paused somewhat unconsciously, giving a final glance at the waterfall.

~ * ~


	4. Aqua Attachment

~ * ~

Chapter Three:

_In Which Bella Develops an Attachment and Renee Gives Advice_

~ * ~

After the first visit, I could not stop thinking about the waterfall. When I lay in my bed at night, I dreamed about rushing water, acid green leaves, foamy mist, the scent of metals mixed with the perfume of the forest, fire-colored flowers, and shivering softness. There was nothing concrete. Nothing I could touch, and yet the dreams caused the most extreme of new feelings to course through my body—feelings that I had never felt before. It was like a door had been opened, and I just needed to walk through it.

Unable to stop myself, I joined Charlie for fishing every weekend there on out. Jacob always seemed to show up. We even had a routine. I'd read whatever book I had brought, and Jake would fish with Billy and Charlie. After Jake had caught at least one decent-sized fish, he'd show it off, I'd give him my approval, and then we would pack up. We'd make our way through the trees until we reached my waterfall.

It was near perfect—except that Jacob was _always _there.

However, after a few visits with Jake, I did memorize the path through woods:

Hike Uphill.  
Three birch trees in a row.  
Turn east.  
Enter meadow of heaven.  
Keep straight toward the rocks.  
Listen for the sounds of water. Let them guide you.

One day late in July, Jake didn't show up for the Saturday fishing tedium.

"Where's Jake?" I asked Billie.

"Friend's birthday," Billy informed me with a "knowing" wink.

_Weird, weird old men._

I turned to Charlie. "I think I'm going to go for a swim, dad." I made an extra effort to sound casual.

Charlie nodded, not looking up from his line in the river. "Take your cell phone, Bells."

"Sure thing." I nodded and set off.

I followed the trail carefully. I almost got lost before I made it to the meadow, but I managed to orient myself when I ran into three strange trees. Thus corrected, I skipped through the meadow and through the small stretch of forest. When I reached the edge of the grotto, I stopped and breathed in a long breath. I hung up my clothes carefully. I adjusted my swim suit before leaping lightly into the pool below.

The water felt _wonderful_. My body, previously so tense, seemed to unknot in the warm pool. The mist cleared my sinuses and felt dewy and fresh on my skin.

With little hurry, I moved across the pool, my legs slowly pushing through the water. When I reached the waterfall, I immediately pushed my hands through the curtain of water.

So _soft_.

I sat, perching myself on a slippery rock just to the side. I pulled my legs out of the water and lifted them one at a time so that the flowing water stroked them. The water lapped so gently. It seemed to hum as it caressed in a seamless pattern that seemed to shift with a constant rhythm. I only half-realized that I was inching forward. The gentle current was moving higher and higher up my body. Soft and pattering and soothing. Until—I suddenly felt a tense feeling between my legs.

A foreign noise escaped my lips.

I looked up suddenly—frantically staring about the grotto.

_Had anyone heard? What would they think? Did I really just moan? Was this wrong? Was I supposed to feel such things? Why had no one told me about this before? Why did a _**_waterfall _**_do this to me?_

_...and what would happen if I did it again…?_

My breathing slowed, and I lowered myself back into the water. I lifted my face and felt the smooth stream lick down my face, finding the crevices in my neck, and slowly untangling my hair so that the long mahogany strands uncoiled down my back.

I moaned again, but this time, I didn't hold back.

I pushed forward into the wall of water, and the rush of liquid tugged at the front of my swimsuit. In response, my nipples tightened under the thin layer of fabric. The tight sensation seemed to swim down in a v, until it reached the tingling spot between my legs. One of my arms instinctively slammed backwards, groping a rock. My hips pressed forward so that the water poured directly on the tingling area. I moaned again, as the tingling became a throbbing.

The throbbing was killing me, but I didn't want it to stop either.

My free hand pressed between my legs, pushing and pulling, frantically searching.

There. Touching the spot made me whimper. My fingers centered on the swollen nub, and they started pumping madly. The throbs pulsed faster through my body. The sound of my own heartbeat and breathing seemed to drown out the faint rushing of the waterfall. My eyes rolled back in to my head. My body quaked.

I came.

For the first time. _Ever_.

All the muscles in my body turned to mush, and I realized that I was floating serenely along the bottom of the pool. When my head broke the surface again, the air tasted absolutely, fucking delicious.

_Pure bliss._

~ * ~

When I returned home to Phoenix that summer, I learned a few things.

Some things, like the magical functionality of a detachable showerhead, I learned from the internet.

Other things I learned from mom.

I made the mistake of vaguely mentioning my summer experience to her—no details just a vague, mumbled sort of question. "Mom, so have you ever...? Um, do girls get feel—I mean—oh, _never mind_!?"

She gazed at me with a funny look for a moment, but then, in one of her rare moments of insight, Renee deciphered the meaning of my mumbling. This resulted in a lot of squealing, and several "My little girl's a woman now!" statements that made me role my eyes and grimace. She finally calmed down, however, and told me, "Sweetie. There is _nothing _to be ashamed of. Every woman should be aware of her own body. Every woman should know what she wants. If she doesn't know what she wants, then she can't ask for it, now can she?"

I did _not _answer this question.

For a kindergarten teacher, my mom sure seemed comfortable in the sexual therapy role.

I made her stop talking about it, but this did not completely deter her. The following day she came home with a copy of the _Vagina Monologues_ and a vibrator, specifically a _Rabbit_. She left them on my bed in a baby pink gift bag.

I examined them with no small amount of horror.

But the next day I read the book.

And as for the Rabbit...

The Rabbit and I became close friends, even as things fell apart with my real-life friends in school.

~ * ~


	5. Ogling Frogs

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. I only own my own very strange thoughts... Don't copy them directly, for your sake as well as mine.

Song for this one is (You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman. Use Youtube and search for the Aretha Franklin version—cuz 60's femi-power rock is awesome...

* * *

~ * ~

Chapter Four:

_In Which Renee Takes a Husband and Bella Ogles a Frog_

~ * ~

Mom remarried my sophomore year.

She'd been dating for years prior to that. The men she'd dated had always been sort of ridiculous—too serious or too short or too dumb—and she never really took them seriously.

But then Phil came along, a good looking ballplayer, who was remarkably boyish for a man, yet competent enough to take care of my mother.

Shockingly, I approved.

They got married at a small ceremony at the stadium. It was wonderfully cheesy, with them exchanging vows on home plate. Afterwards, we played a game of baseball. Phil pitched the ball nice and slow, and Renee managed to hit it. One of Phil's team mates politely pretended to miss catching it, and Renee ran all four bases in her wedding dress, giggling like a little girl the entire way. When she reached home, Phil scooped her into his arms and ran an extra victory lap.

I cried.

When we moved in with Phil, things seemed to normalize, but Phil had to travel quite a bit for his games. Mom stayed at home to keep me company. Each time he left, my mom looked as if a part of her heart had left with him. That killed me.

When they were home… Well, I can't recommend living with newlyweds. I had to have a conversation with _mom_ about Bella needing proper sleep in order to function.

When the school year ended, and I told her I needed to spend some quality time with Charlie.

She knew that I could use a fresh start in high school, so she eventually said, "Okay."

I didn't tell her that I was looking forward to the waterfall.

~ * ~

At the airport, Renee decided we needed to have a final mother-daughter chat.

"I feel like I'm neglecting you," she said with sadness.

I snorted a laugh through my tears. It was funny how I felt exactly the same but about _her_. "Mom, I'll be fine," I assured her with a smile.

Renee pouted. "These are pivotal mother-daughter years. You're going to have your first kiss, first boyfriend, and I'm not going to be there."

My answering laugh was a bit hysterical. "Mom, boys, never paid attention to me in Phoenix—why would they pay attention to me in Forks of all places?"

Renee's eyes flashed, and she gave me a stern look. "Just because that _shrew_ of a girl gave you trouble in school, there is no reason for you to think badly about yourself. You are beautiful, and I _know_ those boys are going to be all over you. You've gotten prettier every year," she said softly.

I opened my mouth to shoot her down, but she continued, "Just promise me that you'll wait for the right one, Bella. Don't settle."

I smiled softly at her. "Sure, mom. No problem."

She kissed my forehead and stared determinedly into my eyes. "Because trust me, daughter of mine, it is worth it." I noticed that she looked thoughtfully over at Phil, a satisfied smile stretched across her face.

"There's no way I can still convince you to stay?" she implored me in earnest as I made my way to the security checkpoint.

There were many things I wanted to say—like how miserable I would be without her around—but I didn't say any of that. I just shook my head, put on a big smile, and blew a kiss goodbye.

I boarded the plane to magical Forks.

~ * ~

I drove out to the waterfall on a sunny day a week before school started.

I was wearing a strapless white terrycloth dress over my bikini.

That's right: a bikini. At sixteen, I'd gained enough boob-power at some point over the last couple of years to wear one without embarrassing myself—not that I regularly wore a bikini in front of people. Quite the opposite, in fact. But it made sense to wear it out to the grotto. It made me feel more sensual and womanly, and shy Bella _be damned!_ If I wanted to feel sensual and womanly, I would—on my own terms.

After I parked the truck, I raced upward along the trail that I knew so well. I pulled in a deep breath of the floral scented air as I blazed through the meadow. When I reached the edge of the grotto, I easily stepped out of the dress, flinging it over a low lying branch. I kicked off my sandals, pulled out my ponytail, and jumped over the edge and into the pool.

_Ahhhhhh. My happy place._

I swam about for a minutes, as had become my ritual, before beginning my ministrations on my special area.

Things were on the crescendo: I felt the heat building from below, soft moans were escaping my lips, and shivers were raking up and down my body, when I saw the vision appear before my eyes.

Through my heavily lidded eyes, I saw an outline of a tall and elegantly sculpted figure standing at the edge of the grotto. The figure was blurred by the mist.

My body froze.

I blinked.

I saw a flash of bronze.

I blinked again, and I saw nothing.

I shook my head, trying to clear my head.

I did actually see something.

On the wall of the grotto, I saw a pert little brown bullfrog staring at me.

He burped a loud _RIB-BIT_.

I laughed.

_Nice, Bella. You're starting to imagine magical Greek Gods descending upon you, but no, instead it's a **bullfrog**. Heck, maybe if you kiss him, he'll turn into a handsome prince. _I laughed at my own silliness. This place really seemed to have an effect on me. I thought about resuming my previous activities, but really didn't feel up to it.

I climbed up the wall, slipped on dress and sandals, and headed back to the house.

~ * ~

* * *

_Random Thought_: Originally, I had wanted to use a duck (as opposed to a frog) because ducks _**quack**_. Quacking is adorable, but then I considered that ducks are rather overused, and I really couldn't use another type of bird. Then the frog idea came to me. Frogs are adorable, aren't they? So that's why you're getting a frog instead of a duck.


	6. War Dance

_Disclaimer_: Twilight belongs to a different lady.

Song for this one is Moby – _Beautiful_. I wrote this chapter in like four minutes. I'm not sure I've ever had so much fun writing anything. I hope you enjoy it.

_Second Disclaimer:_ The references to Native American culture, or more specifically, Quileute culture, are not meant to be taken seriously or to be offensive. Really, you can discount them entirely, because it ultimately comes down to a silly boy trying to impress a girl.

* * *

~ * ~

Chapter Five:

_In Which Bella Dances the War Dance and Does Not Survive_

~ * ~

I was sitting in Jake's kitchen while Billy and Charlie watched a game in the living room. Monday was my first day of school as a junior at Fork's High, and I knew _no one_.

"I hate being new," I muttered, crossing my arms across my chest and leaning back in the chair.

Jake snorted. "Yeah, cuz you've always _adored_ the limelight," he mocked sarcastically, but then he grinned at me. "You'll get over it—they'll get over it. You'll get to know people—they'll get to know you. No big deal." He shrugged.

"I wish you were in my school," I told him mournfully.

Jake raised his brow. "Yeah, like you would really want to hang out with a dorky freshman, anyway."

"Sure, I would."

Jacob looked genuinely touched, but then he had to be silly. "Be still my heart, Bella," he chimed in a squeaky voice.

"Oh, please." I rolled my eyes.

"Seriously, though, Bells, you'll be fine."

"I don't know Jacob." I stared at his ceiling. "I really didn't have any friends at my old school."

He looked at me askance, "I find that hard to believe."

"Well, believe it." I wasn't going to go into detail. He didn't need to know about Virtuous Victoria and her Anti-Bella Swan Army. Braving the unknown in Forks was worth every second away from that hell.

"I really can't. You're smart, sweet, funny, nice, and smokin' hot." He gave me a wicked grin. "But what can I say?" he paused for effect. "You've had me _hooked_ since day one."

_Help me_, he laughed hysterically at his own bad joke.

I groaned at the corniness, before flicking him in the arm.

Jake pushed my hand away. "You just need to be more confident, Bella—that's all."

"Snap! That's it, Jake. By Jove, he's got it!" I parodied, throwing my arms into the air.

"Eh, don't be that way. If I was a girl, I think I'd give you a makeover or something."

"Let's thank the heavens then that you are not a girl."

"Indeed." Jake leered playfully. "Seriously, though, you need some pepping up."

"Gag me. Pep is an anti-Bella substance."

"Well, you know, professional athletes all have their weird routines to maintain their cool before a big game, or better yet, the Quileutes would dance or paint their bodies before going to face their death." And then Jake's eyes suddenly lit up. "Stay there," he commanded, and then he raced down the hall.

Jake returned carrying a small bag. He retrieved a small white pot from inside, screwed off the lid, and before I could react, he smeared a long brown streak down my cheek.

I smacked at his hand, but he kept going. "You stop that right now! I swear, Jacob, you're going to have a black eye to match mine if you don't stop!"

"Sure. Sure. Like you could actually hurt me with your hundred pound self. Chill, Bells. This is for your own good."

"And what exactly is _this_?"

"War paint," he said, nodding enthusiastically. His eyes sparkled.

I scoffed. "You just made fun of my hundred and ten pounds of weak, unstable flesh, and now you're trying to convince me of my _warrior spirit_—yeah, Jake because that _logic_ really flows unbroken…"

"Hush," Jake snapped, before pulling out a tube of fire engine red lipstick and pulling red strokes down my cheeks.

"What the—!?" I yelled. "Please tell me you are not ruining Rachel's makeup stash."

He ignored me, and continued to draw lines.

I pouted in anger, but then inspiration struck. I snatched the small pot from his side and began pulling lines across his cheeks as he pulled lines across mine.

He let me.

As my finger pulled the color across his face, I couldn't help but notice that Jacob had matured. His boyish cheeks were disappearing and hollowing out, making his cheekbones increasingly sharper. He was several inches taller than me now. With his long hair, dark eyes, and silver nose piercing—the "war paint" actually made Jacob look a little bad ass. I told him this, and he grinned.

"You, too. Seriously, Bells," he affirmed. He paused, though, pursing his lips and eyeing my critically. "You still need something else, though." He pulled on my hand, and I followed him into his room.

He reached into this closet and pulled out some long scarves. He twirled a green one in his hands, until it rolled up, and then he pressed it up against my forehead and tied it at the back of my head.

"Now, _you_ are bad ass, Bella," he laughed gleefully, clapping his hands and throwing his head back.

"Oh, come here," I muttered, and tied the other scarf around his head.

Once the scarf was on, Jake raced around the corner toward the mirror in the bathroom. I followed him. When I saw the two of us, I laughed. Jake actually looked somewhat warrior-like, but I… "Jake, I look like a vampish hippie."

He laughed because it was _so_ true.

I smiled. In spite of the silliness, I did feel strangely more optimistic about tomorrow. Even if everyone hated me at Forks high school, I'd still have Jacob as a friend. He really was a true friend.

"Thanks, Jake." I told him solemnly.

"For laughing at you?" he looked at me like I was crazy.

"No, for cheering me up," I corrected.

Jake positively beamed. "Aw, Bells, there's no need for thanks. This was too much fun."

We got a little silly, then, running around the Black household taking pictures. When Charlie and Billy saw us, Billy looked like he might say something critical, but then his face broke, and he shook with laughter. Charlie looked amused but mostly confused.

The problem came when I tried to get the make-up off.

The top layer washed off easily, but my skin was still painted underneath.

Jacob searched out some makeup remover from his sister's old makeup bag. It got the lipstick off, but the orange-brown streaks persisted on my cheeks.

I started to become frantic as I realized the color was not coming off. I pushed Jake out of the way, and picked up the small white jar, flipping it upside down to read the label.

_Finest Natural Henna._

Henna. The same stuff they used to artfully decorate the hands and arms of brides at Indian weddings. The same stuff that could dye hair. The same stuff that lasted for weeks.

I stared at Jacob. My vision was tinged with red.

"You!" I sputtered, taking slow, predatory steps toward him.

Jacob's back smacked against the tiled wall.

"You _dyed_ my face."

Jake whimpered fearfully.

And then I flung my best right hook at Jacob.

~ * ~


	7. Handcuffs and Cavemen

_Disclaimer_: Twilight is not my property.

Song for this one is _School Day_ by Chuck Berry. I think the 1969 version is the best one.

The next few chapters or so all involve Bella's first day.

* * *

~ * ~

Chapter Six:

_In Which Charlie Threatens Handcuffs and Bella Is Abducted by a Cave Man_

~ * ~

Charlie stood in front of me with his cop-face on. "Bella, I don't want to do this, but if you don't get out that door…" He swallowed audibly. "I am going to have to handcuff you and drive you to school in the cruiser."

I stared at Charlie in shock. He was _serious_. Going to school on the first day with orange streaks across my face seemed like an extreme form of hatred—especially from Charlie.

I gave him a flat look. "Charlie, it looks like the headless horseman lobbed a _pumpkin_ at my face."

He didn't say anything. He just stared at me, unwavering, and he'd definitely noticed that I'd called him _Charlie_ and not dad. He hated when I did that. Also, Charlie wasn't into much besides fishing and being a cop and sports and cards and more fishing. There was the definite possibility that he had no idea what the pumpkin-throwing headless horsemen was…

I decided to try a new tactic. "Moreover, I have a broken hand." I held my bandaged arm dramatically aloft, as evidence.

Charlie's face didn't change, and I realized that this was probably protocol for him. Crying would not get you out of traffic ticket with my dad. He spoke in a stern voice, "Bells, it is your first day of school. Those marks are going to last for two weeks at least. You are not going to miss two weeks of school. It's your junior year."

"No," I countered.

Charlie shook the handcuffs in front of my face.

I groaned. Unlike my mother, Charlie's force of will was ironclad. He was as easily stubborn as I was—maybe even more so. Thus, I decided to think logically. If I drove myself, I could at least hide for a little while, but if Charlie drove me… there was _no_ escaping attention when you got dropped off at school in a police cruiser. "Fine." I huffed, not looking at him.

Charlie gave a sigh of relief and then gave me a crinkly-eyed smile. The smile had _no_ effect. "Don't worry, Bella, the kids are nice here in Forks."

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. It would appear that my father was perfectly at ease with sacrificing his daughter to the harpies and snakes of teenage hell. I wanted to beat my head against the wall. Well, so much for "starting over."

Charlie left for work, and I stared at my battered reflection in the bathroom mirror. I picked up the bottle of peroxide, and poured some into a cotton ball. It seemed to help, slightly—but there was no getting over this immediately. As a final step, I pulled out the new bottle of foundation I'd picked up from the twenty-four hour drug store yesterday. I'd never really owned much makeup besides lip gloss and mascara before, but I was willing to brave all paths this morning.

I smeared it on, but there was no helping it. The foundation did almost nothing.

There was no fixing this.

Death by mortification, _here I come_.

~ * ~

I kept my face ducked down as I drove the truck into the school parking lot. Ordinarily, I felt nothing short of devotion to my rusty, retro-cool hunk of junk, but as the engine sputtered and kicked, I muttered a slew of insults because the noises drew the attention of the early arrivals. I ducked my head even lower, so that my eyes barely peeked over the steering well. Driving forward, I frantically searched the row of buildings until I saw the one labeled "Front office."

I kicked the gas and shot forward, flying ahead, but at the last minute a small shape appeared in front of me.

I slammed on the brakes. The truck groaned in dismay at the rough treatment. The small shape was a girl. She was staring at me in shock. Short, thin, with pretty features, and impeccably dressed, she looked exactly like the sort of Ms. In-Crowd who would love to give me hell. I kicked the truck into reverse, and with a skill that surprised my own self, I slid the truck into an open parking spot. Without looking back, I flung open my door and darted into the front office, breathing heavily.

I marched directly up to a red-haired woman, sitting behind a long pea-green Formica countertop that divided the room.

She gawked at my face.

_Lovely_. I had a feeling that I was going to get a lot of this today. "Bella Swan?" I said hopefully.

Behind me, I heard a door open.

"_Oh_, Chief Swan's daughter. I'm Ms. Cope. Yes, yes… I have your schedule…" her voice trailed off. She was unabashedly examining the orange streaks on my face, probably trying to figure out if I had some chronic skin ailment.

Someone behind me cleared their throat.

My body froze, and I did not turn. Instead, I pulled the sides of my hair forward, so that it fanned around my face.

"Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Cullen?" Ms. Cope asked the person standing behind me. She slid a folder to me across the countertop.

A deep voice spoke up behind me. "I just need to talk to the new girl."

Ms. Cope didn't look up. "That's fine, dear. She's got all her forms, so why don't you help show her to her first class?"

"My pleasure," the voice answered coldly.

A chill shot down my spine.

The phone rang, and Ms. Cope marched over to answer it.

"You know," the voice spoke. "It's rude to almost run someone over and then just run away."

My shoulders stiffened. I took a deep breath and turned slowly.

A behemoth of a teenage boy was towering over me. He looked angry.

But then he saw the orange streaks.

He lost the intensity in his expression and curiously cocked his head to the side. "Why do you have orange stuff on your face?"

I was terrified. The words sputtered out almost as a question, "War dance?"

Clearly, of all the words to escape from my mouth, the ones I'd had spoken were not the ones he had expected. His face broke into a remarkably teddy bear-like grin. There were dimples and everything. "War dance? What's that supposed to mean?" he asked. He looked like he was about to laugh, but then his brow furrowed as he looked at the dark streaks across my face, "Did someone hurt you?"

"Uh, no. Actually, I tried to hurt him." I held up my bandaged wrist.

He looked very confused. "Who'd you hurt?"

"Jacob."

"Who's Jacob?"

"He's my friend from La Push."

"He's Quileute?" the boy surmised.

"Yeah?"

"You punched him?" He pointed to my wrist. He looked like he was trying to hold back a smile.

I nodded. "Well, I _tried_ anyway."

The boy burst into ear-splitting laughter. He turned to Ms. Cope, who was looking at him disapprovingly. "_She_," he proclaimed to the elder matron, "_punched_ an indian!" And then he was hooting over his own joke, grasping onto the counter to hold himself steady while he laughed.

Ms. Cope shook her head in amusement, more at the boy's mirth than at his supposed joke.

He turned back to me, another question on his face. "But how did you get the orange stuff on your face?"

"He painted my face—but it didn't wash off," I explained miserably.

"Why'd he paint your face in the first place?"

"He was trying to pep me up for school today. It's my first day. It was supposed to be funny."

The Cullen boy laughed again. Apparently, he thought it _was_ funny.

"Can't you, like, cover it up or something?"

"I tried to, but it didn't work," I explained.

He tilted his head to the side and bit the side of his cheek as if he was thinking hard on something. "Is that why you almost ran over my sister? You were trying to hide your face?"

I blinked once and then looked down ashamedly.

"Eh, don't worry about it too much," Emmett reassured. "She's so short. She's hard to spot most of the time."

I looked up and stared at him in disbelief.

He laughed again. "I'm Emmett Cullen by the way." He held out his hand.

"Bella Swan," I mumbled.

He beamed down at me.

I had the funniest feeling that I'd made a new friend.

"Bella, I think I know how to fix this for you."

I looked up at him hopefully.

A mischievous gleam crept into his eyes. "Just trust me and all that, eh, warrior princess?"

The next thing I knew, my new _compadre_, Emmett, had scooped me up and flung me over his shoulder, causing the air to rush out of my lungs with a yelp. Leaving behind a wide-eyed Ms. Cope, Emmett pushed open the glass front door of the office and ran out, whooping as he ran with me across the parking lot.

_Don't look up, Bella. Don't look up. Eyes closed. If you do, you'll see the people staring and then, you'll vomit on Emmett._

The next thing I know I was dropped onto a bench. The world was spinning.

I heard a bitter, feminine voice yelling. "Are you a caveman, Emmett? You were sent to exact an apology, not abduct her."

"But she punched an Indian," he proclaimed, as if this somehow explained everything.

I looked up, my vision more or less in line with gravity now.

Two exceptionally beautiful girls were staring at me. One of them was the little dark-haired girl that I had almost run over. The other was a blond-haired, blue-eyed image of perfection, and she was giving me a death stare. I instinctively shrank back.

But they both gasped when they saw my face.

The blond turned on Emmett. "What did you do to her?" she demanded ferociously.

He cowered in her shadow. "Chill, Rosie. I didn't do anything. I _told you._ Bella, here, _punched_ an indian!" The last part was proclaimed with evident delight.

The small, elf-like one was carefully examining my face. "What happened to your skin?"

"My friend thought it would be funny to paint my face, but it didn't wash off afterwards."

She took on a very businesslike expression. "Do you know what type of makeup was used?"

I sighed sadly. "I only found out after. He used henna."

Both she and 'Rosie' collectively gasped. They both crowded next to me, running their fingers along my cheeks. My features froze at the contact. I stopped breathing. I wasn't used to having strangers so close to me.

"Normal foundation wouldn't work," Rose declared, scrutinizing my right cheek.

"We'd need a liquid-powder combination—something really thick."

They both turned to each other at the same time. "Theater makeup."

Once again, I was being dragged to an unknown location. Emmett was left behind, staring open-mouthed at the sporadic burst of female energy. The little one, who I now understood to be called Alice, had a terrible amount of strength for one so small. At the end of our journey into a building and down a flight of steps and along a hall, she shoved me into metal chair with a mustard-colored seat cushion. I barely had a chance to look around the room when thick creamy sticks were being dragged across my cheeks and daubed onto my face.

"Grab the mime paint—this is ten shades too dark. She's very fair."

"It needs to be dark to cover it up," Rosalie argued.

"Not _that_ dark. We can still cover the brightest spots up with a bit of blush."

I heard a murmur of consent. I closed my eyes. I felt various creams and ointments being layered on and smeared across my skin.

"Bella, you can look now."

I opened my eyes and stared into a large mirror square mirror surrounded on the top and sides by round white lights.

I gently touched my cheek. I smiled at the two girls, "They're gone!"

They both smiled back at me.

I turned back to the mirror. I wasn't used to wearing any makeup, let alone the leather layer that seemed to quilt my skin now, yet, the makeup covered the marks perfectly, and it actually managed to look somewhat natural—more natural than the regular makeup on some girls I had seen. It still felt very odd. I squished up my face at my reflection.

"Oh, don't do that!" Alice exclaimed. "You'll get lines, since it's so thick."

I nodded, and then I looked down at my hands. "I really can't thank you guys enough. You did this for me—even after I almost…" I made a sheepish gesture toward Alice.

"Oh, Bella!" She waved her hand dismissively at me. "All is forgiven. I cannot believe that you came to school with the henna marks, though. I would have barred the door and refused to leave the house."

Rosalie nodded fervently in agreement.

"I tried, but my dad's a cop. He threatened handcuffs and the police cruiser."

They gasped.

"Men just don't understand," Alice sighed knowingly. "Well, all is well that ends well, and because of the henna marks, you met us." She smiled hugely at this.

I shyly smiled back. I still couldn't believe these two girls were being so nice to me.

"What's your first class, Bella?" Rosalie asked.

I grabbed my schedule out of my bag, but Alice snatched it from me. "You have English with me!" she exclaimed excitedly.

With that, she grabbed my hand and dragged me to my first class, promising with a call over her shoulder to see Rosalie at lunch.

~ * ~


	8. Bella Arrives Edward Leaves

Disclaimer: Twilight is not my property.

Song for this one is Good Morning Little School Girl—I like the Huey Lewis and the News Version.

So, you get to meet my version of human Edward this chapter--Yay! Do tell me what you think...

* * *

Chapter Seven:

In Which the Bella Enters the Land of Milk and Honey and In Which Edward Flees It

~ * ~

English passed in something of a blur.

Alice Cullen talked my ear off. She informed me that Jasper Whitlock Cullen was the love of her life, hotness incarnate, and her soul mate, and further proceeded to explain in intricate detail as to why this was so, and how she ended up meeting him and later how she became his stepsister, of all things. She knew it was weird, but her real father had been a jerk beyond words to her mother and them—such that none of them were surprised when ran off with the _tramp_—and now they were all so much happier now that Esme'd married Carlisle. I learned she loved shopping—and that _by the way_—I was going shopping with her after school, wasn't I? Before I could give a yes or no, she was telling me about her brothers—how Emmett had finally won the heart of Rosalie, Jasper's sister—and how Edward, her twin, would absolutely love to meet me, and of course, I was most definitely sitting with them at lunch.

The teacher seemed mostly immune to the Alice's ceaseless chattering. When he called on her, Alice answered the question correctly and immediately gave him a brilliant smile. He flushed a little and then returned to the lesson. Without taking a breath, she returned to explaining her world to me.

I noticed the rest of the students staring at us, well, really, at _me_ with keen interest. I could see them whispering.

Alice seemed to notice none of it.

When class ended, Alice hopped up, already grabbing my hand and steering me down the hall to my next class.

When we reached the doorway, she snatched up my hand, and with apparent rapture on her face, declared, "Oh, Bella, we're going to be the best of friends! I just know it!"

I stared at her with a shocked smile stretched out across my face. I would have laughed at her words, but she seemed so utterly _certain_ of them.

"I think so, too," I returned shyly.

She gave a high-soprano squeak and kissed my cheek, before lithely dancing off to her next class.

I walked into my second class in something of a daze.

A smiley girl with curly dark brown hair bounded up to me as I came in the room. "You're Isabella Swan," she announced.

I smiled back at her. "Bella," I corrected.

"Bella, that's a pretty name. I'm Jessica Stanley."

"Nice to meet you, Jessica."

"You can sit there. The seat's open." She pointed to a seat next to hers. I sat down.

"So how do you know the Cullens?" she asked.

"I just met them this morning. Alice and Rose were really nice to me."

Her mouth fell open. She closed it quickly and gave me a tight smile. "That's so interesting. I had thought you must have known them before."

"Uh, no."

"So have you met Alice's brother?" she asked, clearly attempting to steer the conversation in a different direction. "He's something to look at, isn't he? Not that he'll look _back_ or anything," she grumbled the last part.

"Emmett, you mean?" I asked, confused.

She laughed. "Oh, Emmett's super good-looking, too, but Mr. Football Captain is Rosalie Hale's through and through. I'm talking about Edward—the only _single_ one."

I shook my head, "No, I haven't met him."

"Well, you'll know him when you see him. He's gorgeous. He's also the school's resident track star, Julliard-quality pianist, and valedictorian for our class," she sighed dreamily, eyes glazed over.

Class started then, and our conversation ended.

When class was over, Jessica grabbed my attention again. "Hey, Bella, if you'd like, you can sit with me at lunch," she offered smiling.

I smiled back. "I promised Alice Cullen, I'd sit with her, but maybe we could—"

"No! No. That's fine," she said, cutting me off. "But I have a small favor to ask. Do you think you could give this note to Edward? The Cullens always sit together at lunch," she explained. She pressed some folded loose-leaf into my hands.

"Uh, sure," I mumbled.

"Stop hogging the new girl, Jessica."

I turned to see a smiling blond boy standing behind us.

Jessica batted her eyelashes at him, before flippantly beginning introductions. "Bella, Mike Newton. Mike, Bella Swan."

"Nice to meet you, Bella," he said, winking at me. I gave him a wry smile in return. If anything, the kid was confident. "You have History, next, right?" When I nodded, he held out his harm to me, and asked, "Shall we?" I laughed and slid my arm through his. He seemed friendly enough.

"Have fun, Bella," Jessica called, before loudly whispering, "and don't forget about my note!"

I gave her a reassuring nod, and walked arm in arm with Mike to History. Mike peppered me with endless questions about myself and my former life in Phoenix. He'd apparently moved from California Freshman year, so he assured me with almost exaggerated earnestness that he understood the stress I was under from the move. Somewhere in those questions, he less-than-subtly asked whether I had someone back home.

Wow, maybe my mother was right about the boys in Forks. The guy was totally hitting on me.

He started to allude to getting coffee with me after school sometime—but I sidestepped with a comment about Alice Cullen taking me shopping every day after school for the rest of my life.

He looked at me in surprise when I mentioned Alice.

He was about to ask something else, but the teacher called the class to order.

When the bell sounded, Mike made a move to walk me to the door, but he was stopped short by Emmett Cullen, who burst through the doorway.

"Bella, Alice sent me to get you." He peered into my face as he said this. "Cool, they really covered up the war wounds, didn't they?"

"War wounds?" Mike asked aloud.

Emmett turned to him and stated most seriously, "Bella, punched an Indian."

I rolled my eyes. Mike looked even more confused, but he shook his head and continued as if Emmett wasn't there. "Anyway, Bella, about coffee—"

He was about to continue, but Emmett cut him off. "Oh, shove off, Newton. Leave Bella alone."

Before I could stop him, Emmett snatched me up by the waist and flung me over his shoulder. I was once again being carried cave man-style down the hall. I made the mistake of keeping my eyes open this time and saw a rather peeved expression on Mike's face before Emmett rounded the corner. Worse yet, it seemed that once I opened my eyes, I couldn't close them again, so that when Emmett finally set me down on a stool in the cafeteria, I swayed back and forth because the world was still spinning.

Dizzy and clumsy in Bella is a bad combination. I started to fall backwards. I felt two hands catch my back.

When I finally looked up, Rosalie was hitting a hunched over Emmett, "Stop treating Bella like one of your pigskins, Emmett!"

The voice behind me chuckled.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Emmett called, while still keeping the arms protectively over his face and head. "I had to rescue her from Newton."

Rosalie turned her attention away from Emmett to face me. "So, Bella, Mike Newton is after your tail, is he?"

I frowned at her. I wasn't used to being teased about boys. As nonchalantly as possible, I informed her, "He wanted to get coffee or something after school."

The hands that were holding me released me, and I almost toppled. The hands caught me yet again.

"But you're going shopping with_ me_ after school!" Alice chimed as she sat down at the table.

"I told him that."

The hands gripping my waist gently let go, and I turned around to thank my savior.

I looked up and my breath caught. I was starring into the most beautiful male face I had ever seen, and it was less than six inches from my own.

My eyes widened. His enormous green eyes widened in response. I entirely stopped breathing. My legs gave out, and I started to sway. He caught me again.

He spoke first. "Edward," he said, but I noticed that he turned his head so that he was looking away from me as he spoke.

"I'm…"

"Bella, I know. Alice told me."

He sat me down, and once he was sure that I wasn't going to fall over again, stalked to the far side of the table, still not looking at me.

I saw Alice intently looking back and forth from Edward to me. She looked mildly surprised by something, but also, there was some other emotion in her expression that I couldn't make out, but then a tall blond guy, Jasper, I presumed, came to the table. Alice jumped off her stool and sailed into his open arms. He caught her easily, and they kissed passionately, as if on cue.

My stomach chose that moment to growl. I had missed breakfast due to the henna-cheeks-fiasco. I turned to Rose on my side. "Aren't we going to get in the lunch line?" I stood to rise, but Rose grabbed my shoulder and sat me back down.

"We don't eat bin food," she said matter-of-factly.

"We're vegetarians!" Alice exclaimed, as if this was something to be terribly excited about.

"Well, some of us are," Jasper muttered. Emmett's head bobbed in agreement. "Others of us know how to enjoy a good rare T-bone with—"

"Jasper!" Alice snapped. She whispered to me dramatically as if describing a great scandal, "Jasper and Emmett _cheat_."

"We have plenty of food, if you'd like to share some," Rosalie offered.

"That's very nice of you guys."

"Well, you don't want to ingest the sludge they call food here." Edward spoke, again without looking up at me. "It's nothing more than chemically enhanced powders and genetically modified meat—the kind that comes from headless chickens and swine forced to swallow their own excrement and—"

"—shut it with your preaching, Edward," Emmett complained.

"If you actually picked up a book or a newspaper or a magazine that wasn't _Maxim_, Emmett, you might actually know something—"

"Edward!" Rosalie stood up. She looked like she might pop him on the jaw. "Please _lay off_ for at least the next twenty minutes. Bella must have the most _fabulous_ impression of us."

Edward flicked his eyes to me to the briefest second. "I apologize, Bella," he said, and then he removed his gaze.

Once again, I started to sway slightly. I gripped the table to steady myself. As soon as I calmed, it hit me how ridiculous I was behaving. Edward could barely stand to look at me for more than a half-second, and yet here I was swooning at his every syllable.

_Get a grip, Bella._

Rose started pulling various plastic containers out of a small cooler at her side. On the other side of the table, Alice and Edward were doing the same thing. The next thing I knew, I was being handed a plate filled with some sort of wine-colored rice, a medley of red, green, and orange vegetables, something that looked like seasoned chicken, and a creamy cheese. The plate smelled spicy, somewhat Asian in flavor—Thai, I thought. Rosalie practically shoved the fork in my mouth.

When the food settled on my tongue, I instinctively moaned in pleasure, closing my eyes and savoring the exotic flavors. I turned to Rose after I had finished chewing. "This tastes _heavenly_."

Rose nodded her head confidently, as if she had expected my response. "Our mom, Esme, runs a local carryout service. It's quite popular."

"It must be." I took another bite—another moan of happiness. I'm not sure I had ever eaten food this good.

I heard a clatter, and I saw Edward Cullen striding away from the table.

The entire table looked stunned.

"Did I do something?" I asked querulously after a moment of silence had passed.

"What could you have done?" Alice replied. The corner of her mouth was twitching, as if she knew something.

"Edward is his own special ball of brooding sensitivity, Bella," Jasper explained. "Who knows what his latest crisis is? It could be the anticipation over the latest election in the Caucus or the death of some obscure composer of bassoon music. It's not a big deal—Edward's, just, well, _Edward_," Jasper shrugged.

I smiled back at him. He was trying to make me feel better.

Alice spoke up, then, changing the direction of the conversation, and lunch continued.

~ * ~

* * *

***Next Chapter: Biology.


	9. a Note is Delivered

Disclaimer: Twilight ain't mine.

Author's Note: Don't hate me. It's just necessary.

* * *

Chapter Eight:

In Which a Note Is Delivered and Bella Fails at Being an Artist

~ * ~

After lunch, I made my way to the Science Building for my next class, Biology. Once I made it inside, I had to drag my schedule out of my bag to see which room it was in.

When I peered up from my schedule, I spied Jessica Stanley strutting down the hall with Mike Newton at her side. It was then that I remembered the note that I was supposed to have delivered to Edward.

Crap. What to do?

I had totally forgotten about it after Edward had stormed off at lunch.

Well, they still hadn't seen me…

I realized that I was standing in front of Room No. 400, my assigned Biology class. I quickly flung open the wooden door, hurrying inside.

No sooner had I passed the threshold, than I tripped. I tried to grab a handrail or something with my right hand, but since it was still braced and bandaged from its meeting with Jacob's jaw, it only touched air. It was in that portion of the second that I realized my fall to the floor was lasting longer than normal.

Turns out Forks High School had handicap accessible ramps installed in all of the classrooms. Thus, I didn't merely fall on my face: I slid down eight feet of ramp. I came to a spectacular halt at the very bottom.

I groaned miserably. When I lifted my face to begin to stand up, there were two shapes obstructing me. I blew my hair out of my face so I could make out what they were.

Shoes.

I looked up to see Edward Cullen.

I let my face fall back to the floor.

"Bella? Bella!" I heard his musical voice calling to me.

"Leave me to my hole in the sand," I whined.

He laughed. Those bell-like tones were frickin' _beautiful._

_Stop those thoughts, Bella._

"I would, silly ostrich, but there's a queue forming up."

I groaned again because fate couldn't hate me more, but I also smiled. Not only did Edward get my joke, but he said "queue" instead of "line," like he was British or something. That was cute.

The next thing I knew, Edward's hands had caught the sides of my waist and pulled me into his arms, bridal style. Just like during the lunch incident, my face was six inches from his. His enormous green eyes were fixed away from mine, and I was furiously pulling in long, deep breaths to calm down. Not easy. My hormones pinged and ponged within my trembling body. At any moment, I was unsure as whether I was going to break out into a full-scale panic attack or do the unthinkable, and run my tongue in one long wet streak up Edward Cullen's sinuous neck.

_Down, girl. Deep breaths, Bella. Deep breaths. Eyes closed—no peeking. Keep your eyes closed._

Edward set me down in a chair. "Do you think you can manage now?" he asked, a crooked grin on his face.

I snapped my eyes closed. That seemed to help. Big, deep breaths. "Yep. Right as rain and all that."

"Bella! You're in my class. How cool is that?" I opened my eyes to see Mike Newton standing in front of me. _Great_. I also saw Edward sitting at the lab station across from me—not at my lab station. I had kind of thought that he may have wanted to sit next to me since he had so kindly scraped me off the floor and since we sat at the same table at lunch. Well, maybe he already has a lab partner or something…

Oh, who was I kidding? I was a sad little girl with sad little fantasties. The boy loathed the sight of me.

Mike interrupted my pondering by plopping down in the chair next to mine. "It's cool if we're lab partners, right? Because it didn't seem like anyone else was sitting here." He looked at Edward as he spoke, flipping his hair slightly.

Before I could answer, a voice cleared his throat.

"Ms. Swan, I presume?" Our Biology teacher stood in front of my lab station.

I smiled at his phrasing. "Yes, sir. I'm Bella Swan."

"I am Mr. Banner. A Ms. Cartwright called me about you."

She _didn't_.

"Oh, Ms. Cartwright was my Biology teacher in Phoenix," I explained. She was also one of Renee's many manic teacher-friends, and might I add, a tad bit pushy about my "brilliant future."

"So she said. She also informed me that you won second place in the Genetics category at the Arizona State Science Fair, were number one in her Honors course, and were top five in your class of over two thousand students, to top it all. She had ample praise for you."

I wanted to die and hide under the table. Mike stared at me like I'd sprouted two extra heads. "Ms. Cartwright tends to be an enthusiastic woman," I muttered.

"You don't say?" Mr. Banner quipped tonelessly. "I promised her that I wouldn't _bore_ you. I had already ordered a supplementary AP Biology course packet for Mr. Cullen, and I promised Ms. Cartwright that yours is on the way. Does that satisfy you?"

I gulped. "Of course, sir."

"Very well, you'll have to share materials with Mr. Cullen in the meantime, but I'm sure he'll be amenable. Won't you, Mr. Cullen?"

"Of course, sir," Edward smirked at Mike as spoke. He looked quite cheerful. Weird. I'm not sure if I'd met a more mercurial person in my life. Maybe I should buy him a mood ring or something to help me keep up. Stay away from Edward when the jewel is black—consider possibly venturing a chat if it's sunny yellow and all that.

"In fact, it would probably be easiest if the both of you were lab partners. That way the other kids would have a chance to learn something for themselves," Mr. Banner looked glumly down at Mike as he said this.

"Now, if you would, Ms. Swan?" He waved his hand toward the seat next to Edward.

I picked up my bag and took my seat next to Edward. The eyes of the entire class followed my every movement. I couldn't help but wonder if they were hoping for a repeat of the ramp incident. One girl, a thin-lipped blond, followed my steps with a nasty sneer. How very pleasant, and Charlie had sworn that the kids were so very _nice _here in Forks.

I gave Edward a polite smile as I sat down next to him. To my utter astonishment, he returned it. Once again, the world spun, and I had to close my eyes and grip the table. The boy really needed to stop catching me off-guard like that.

At the front of the class, Mr. Banner started discussing the syllabus. I pulled my notepad out of my bag and began to jot down the occasional note.

I realized I still needed to give Edward Jessica's note. I dug about in the bottom of my bag and pulled it out. I poked Edward gently in the arm. He turned toward me with an amused expression on his face. I wrote a brief message on my notepad by way of explanation.

_I have a note for you._

He nodded, eyeing me curiously. Underneath the desk, I gently pressed the note into his hand. As my fingers grazed his, I felt an unexpected tingle, like a small current of electricity.

He carefully unfolded the note in his lap and started reading it. It seemed to be quite lengthy. At first his face merely showed amusement and professional interest, but then his expression changed. His brow furrowed, and he clenched the note tightly in his hands and pulled it closer to his face, as he hunched forward slightly. I saw his eyes dart swiftly down the page and to the side—in my direction—but then they swiftly returned to the paper in front of him. I couldn't help but hear a subtle acceleration in his soft breathing. He smashed a hand against his forehead, before tensely running it through his messy bronze locks. His other hand gripped the table, and I saw him edge his chair away from me.

I guess he _really_ didn't want me peeking at whatever Jessica had written.

What had Jessica put in that note? Given the way she had described Edward, she definitely had a pretty big thing for him. She probably put something in there to get his attention. I giggled.

Edward's head jerked towards my direction, but he didn't look at me. I hope he didn't think I'd read the note beforehand. I didn't want him to be embarrassed about it. It _so_ wasn't his fault if Jessica couldn't keep her fantasies to herself. I decided to defuse the situation with another question.

_Do you have a response? ;-)_

From the little I had gathered about her personality, I was pretty positive that Jessica would grill me for every detail regarding this exchange, and I wanted something concrete to tell her.

Edward stiffly picked up his pen. He stared intently at the paper, and then in elegant script wrote: _Would discussing it after school be acceptable? _

I frowned slightly. So, he wanted to meet up with Jessica, did he? Well, _bully_ for her… I picked up my pen.

_I'm sure there won't be any problems with that._

Edward raised an eyebrow at me. Then, he shrugged, so I shrugged. I pulled my hair out of its ponytail and let it fall down, my own personal privacy curtain. I started sketching offhandedly on my notepad. Maybe this was no big deal for him. Maybe he got strange notes from girls all the time. He may even be planning to turn Jessica down. That thought brightened my mood considerably. In class earlier she'd seemed to indicate that he had never noticed her before. There was no reason to assume that he'd be interested in Jessica now, but then what did I know? I'd known him for all of an hour.

I peeked through a gap in my hair. Edward's gaze was fixed in my direction, except it was focused at a downward angle…

I looked down at my doodling. As a general rule, I tended to sketch flowers, trees, little scenes involving nature. This time I had outdone myself. Below on the page was a sketch of a girl beneath a waterfall, and there was a flower, too, but the flower was drawn smack in between her…

_Bella, you didn't_. Oh, yes, I did. Crap.

I ripped the sheet of paper out of my notebook and crumpled it in my hand.

Edward flinched.

Maybe he didn't see it… He probably wouldn't have been able to decipher it even if he did get a good look. I _sucked_ at Pictionary, but maybe he was one of those people who were good at Pictionary no matter the ineptitude of their teammates. He seemed to be good at everything. Who knew how long he had been looking down? It could have been worse. I could have drawn myself stretched out on the couch with a shiny bronze head feasting in between my legs. That would have been much, much worse, but really why does it even matter? Screw it. He doesn't like me anyway. He can go press Jessica up against a locker after school for all that I'd care.

Except that I did. I did care, and I felt pathetic.

When the bell rang, I stood, quickly throwing my stuff in my bag so that I could run out the door. I turned and—

—Edward had beaten me to it.

_~ * ~_

Mike Newton latched onto me before I could flee down the hall.

"Hey, Bella. What's your next class?"

"Gym," I muttered miserably.

"Hey, me too!" He immediately hooked my arm through his and started pulling us forward.

"That's cool. Maybe you can help save me from myself."

He tried to stile a laugh.

"You saw the ramp incident, didn't you?"

"I think most of the class saw the 'ramp incident.'"

I threw my hands over my face to hide my shame.

He laughed again. "Next time walk to class with me. That way if you fall, I'll be there to catch you."

There he goes again….

I thanked my lucky stars when Jessica rounded the corner.

"Bella! I'm so glad I caught you. I've been going nuts looking for you!" She gave me conspiratorial look. "So did you give a certain someone a piece of correspondence for a particular friend of yours?"

I nodded, smirking. "I did."

"Ahhhhh!" She groaned, grabbing my hands and squeezing them. "Don't mess with me!? What he'd say?"

"He said he wanted to talk with you after school."

Her eyes popped, and she squealed, jumping up and down.

"Uh, Jess—don't you think you should wait until you talk to get your hopes up? You don't know what he's going to say."

She sniffed dismissively, "Bella, you don't know him. If Edward wanted nothing to do with me, he would have written a boring and polite note saying so. The fact that he wants to _talk_ to me…" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively before throwing her hand over her forehead and declaring, "I think I've died and gone to heaven!"

She threw her arms around me, giving me a tight hug. "I'll see you guys later!" she called as she skipped down the hallway.

_~ * ~_

I waited an extra five minutes before exiting the girl's locker room after the final bell had rung for the day. Seeing that the coast was clear of Mike, I made my way down the hall. I started push open the door to go outside.

"Bella?"

That _voice_ should not have been so familiar to me, given that I'd known its owner for less than twenty-four hours.

I stopped and turned slowly to face Edward. Mr. Sex God himself was leaning casually against the wall. He didn't say anything.

"Can I help you, Edward…?" I asked, not exactly looking at him, but not really taking my eyes away either.

"I'm sorry." He ran a hand through his hair, like he was flustered, but his voice was even and calm and sounded very sincere. "I guess I don't know what to say. But I've thought about it, and it's better this way, really."

His face was very serious.

"What way?" I had no idea what he was going on about.

"It's better if we're not friends," he explained. "Trust me."

Oh. Dear. God. He really detested me. He'd left lunch because of me, and then in Biology, he'd seen my drawing. He knew what a little freak I was.

"Okay…" I let my voice trail offhandedly like this was meant nothing to me. "It's not like we ever really were friends, so no big deal, right?"

He didn't say anything.

Further down the hall, I saw Jessica Stanley making her approach.

"Right," I muttered. I turned back to him and smiled stupidly. "Anyway, I'll see you around, Edward. I hope you have a lovely 'talk' with Jessica and everything." I raised my hands to make air quotes.

I didn't wait to hear his response. I pushed open the door, and marched stolidly into the fresh, misty air.

_~ * ~_


	10. Lasagna and a Blue Van

No clue as to how you guys will react to this chapter. I edited the bejeebers out of it, so I have kind of lost perspective, but I definitely enjoyed writing it.

Music for this one would be some strange combination of Untouchable Face by Ani DiFranco—because that's how it starts—and then the theme to Bonanza—and then maybe back again.

Ah… I do so love torturing B+E.

* * *

Chapter Nine:

In Which Lasagna is Promised and a Blue Van Thwarts Bella

_~ * ~_

I was in Bella lock-down mode as I marched out to my truck. I wanted to curl into my bed, listen to Ani DiFranco, and watch bad 80's movies. The kicker was that I didn't see how I could have avoided this. Even if he'd seen my little drawing, he had no right to jump to conclusions. Moreover, how could I address his request "to not be friends with him" while also maintaining the newly forged friendship that I'd made with his family?

Trust him? Nope. Fuck him. VAIN, COCKY, ENIGMATIC, TEMPESTUOUS JERK-OFF!

"So you still haven't forgiven me, eh?"

My head snapped up to see Jake, sitting in the bed of my truck with his long legs dangling off the back.

"_Jake_, I breathed.

I didn't hesitate. I jumped into his arms and began sobbing hysterically.

"Ya okay, Bells?" Jake asked when I finally quieted down. He sounded a little terrified.

I brushed the tears off my cheeks. "I'm fine, Jake, just a little emotional."

"Hey, well, your face looks pretty good. I can't see the marks at all."

I gave him a smile.

"Two really sweet girls helped me. You can't really see the marks on your face, either."

"That's because I'm not an albino, honey."

"Yeah, well, _hun,_" I snapped sarcastically, "Where's your face bruise? I broke my hand. I mean, you have to have a bruise _somewhere_."

He pointed to a small pink spot on the edge of his jaw. I scowled as I examined the spot.

"I really pack a punch, don't I?"

"Didn't Charlie teach you to keep your thumb tucked?"

"He mentioned something about that once we left the E.R."

Jake laughed, but then his expression turned remorseful. "Yeah, about that, we never really had a chance to talk with all the punching and screaming and broken hands and dyed faces, and I wanted to come and say sorry. I was pretty sure I'd ruined your first day of school, and I wanted to see if I could make it up to you."

"You're already forgiven, Jake. Now, what exactly do you have in mind?"

"Do something exciting, you know, like fishing or line dancing or tackle football…?" He grinned hugely.

"Hah Hah Hah. Just what I need—to break my other hand."

"Well, I know you like swimming. We can drive out to the springs, if you'd like?"

Happy sigh. My _waterfall_.

"We can't, Jake. First, I can't get my arm brace wet. Second, I made plans with one of the girls from this morning to go shopping after school."

He frowned. He looked sad.

"Hey, how about you and Billy come over tomorrow for dinner? I'm making lasagna for Charlie."

"Did I hear the word, "lasagna"?" a deep voice asked behind me.

I turned around to see Emmett and Jasper.

"Hey, guys," I greeted.

"Where's the lasagna?" Emmett repeated.

The dude really had a one-track mind.

"I'm making lasagna tomorrow night."

"Bella, I didn't know you cooked," Jasper said, leaning against my truck.

"My mother once thought mixing tofu and jam was a good idea, and my father still doesn't know how to use a microwave, so learning to cook wasn't really a choice."

"_Back_ to the topic of lasagna. Does said Italian dish include animal product?" Emmett inquired.

"You guys are vegetarians?" Jake asked, looking slightly shocked.

"Does that offend you?" Jasper drawled, raising an eyebrow at him.

"No, well, you really don't fit the stereotype."

Jasper shrugged.

"Our family doesn't dig the animal flesh, so Jasper and I too often must take matters into our own hands." Emmett explained quickly, as if in a great rush. "So how about the _meat_, Bella?"

I laughed. You'd think I was a dealer or something. "Indeed, Emmett, there will pigs and cows slaughtered for the preparation of said meal."

"Awesome. _Please_ tell me we can come."

I smiled at him. I couldn't help but wonder how Charlie would respond to these two. "That's fine. I'll just need to make a second batch, so if you want to partake you'll have to help me chop and prep."

"Done!" Emmett happily declared.

"I'm Jasper by the way," Jasper introduced himself to Jake.

Apparently, I'd forgotten my manners. "Sorry! Jake this is Jasper and Emmett Cullen. You guys, this is my good friend Jacob Black."

"You're the Indian?" Emmett asked in disbelief.

Jacob raised an eyebrow in my direction. "I believe we prefer the term Native American, or better yet, Quileute, but yes, I guess that'd be me."

"She punched you."

"That she did."

Emmett sized Jacob up and down. "Bella said you were a freshman. You don't look like a freshman."

I butted in before Jake could say something snarky. "They grow them big and tall in La Push. You should see his friends. They're all six foot fourteen year olds."

"Fifteen," Jacob muttered.

"You play?" Emmett asked.

Jake shrugged. "The school on the rez is pretty small, so we normally don't have enough guys to form a team. We might have enough to put together a basketball team this year, though."

"I wonder if you could play on our JV football team. We have to let the home-school kids try out, so why not the rez kids, right?" Emmett was apparently in full-on captain recruiting mode.

Jake shrugged, "I don't think it works that way. La Push is a separate school."

Emmett looked like someone had just swiped his lollypop. Jasper, sensing this, changed the subject, "So are you going to play any sports, Bella?"

The laughter from Jacob was deafening.

"Athletics and I don't really mix," I grumbled over Jacob's laughter.

"Have you seen her walk in a straight line for more than twenty feet?" Jacob sputtered out, gasping for breath. "Bella, couldn't pass a sobriety test if she was _sober_."

He stood up mimicking my stance. "First, if they asked her to walk in a straight line, she'd fall down, and when they gave the hand-eye coordination test…" He held up two finger tips and acted like he was trying to put them together but then suddenly poked himself in both eyes and fell back into the bed of the truck.

His impression was remarkably accurate.

Emmett and Jasper both howled with laughter. I growled at all three of them.

This caused them to laugh harder.

"Seriously, Jake, you'd better shut it before I give you another nose ring."

From behind me, someone called my name. I stiffened. I turned slowly to see Edward marching toward me with Rosalie and Alice at his heels. Rosalie and Alice were hanging onto each other with their heads buried in each other's necks as they tried unsuccessfully to stifle fits of giggles.

I jerked my gaze back to the three boys in front of me. Jake waved his arms about, regaling Emmett and Jasper with the story of the how I had hooked his nostril. I pretended to listen, but my ears were focused entirely on the approaching footsteps. I heard it when they cut short directly behind me.

I felt Edward's hand clamp on my shoulder. "Bella, I need to talk to you."

I chose not to respond.

"Bella, _please_."

"But I thought it was better if we weren't friends, Edward" I muttered, jaw fixed and refusing to look at him.

"Bella, is this the ass that made you cry?" Jake asked. He had an angry glare fixed on Edward.

At Jake's question, four angry Cullens turned furious stares on their brother.

"What the hell did you say to Bella, Edward?" Rosalie snarled, charging forward.

I automatically backed away. Even if I wasn't the object of her anger, Rose could be kind of scary. Edward ignored her completely. He stepped in front of me and looked intensely into my eyes. "Just one minute, please, Bella."

Those pretty green eyes made my resolve turn to mush.

Damn him.

I rolled my eyes and nodded irritably.

He put his hand on my lower back and pulled me gently forward, weaving us through the cars. Then, he grabbed my hand and led me to a silver Volvo parked on the edge of the parking lot. He opened a door in the back seat and held it open for me, before running around to the other side. As Edward climbed in, he immediately began pulling off his grey jacket. Underneath, he wore a thin red shirt that clung nicely to his broad shoulders. Between the red shirt and the green eyes, he looked like a Christmas present.

I adjusted myself in the leather seat, crossed my arms, and stared straight ahead.

"Say whatever you want to say Edward, I'm listening."

"Bella, why didn't you tell me the note was from Jessica?"

I gaped at him. "Well, Edward, I guess that I did the normal thing and assumed that she signed it."

He didn't say anything. He just looked at me.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts. "She did sign it, didn't she?"

Edward reached into his pocket and pulled out the note, "You didn't read this?" He held it up.

"Uh, no." I asked again. "So did she sign it?"

He looked embarrassed. "Not with her name."

"Somebody else's name?" I asked, aghast.

"No, no," he ran his hand through his hair, exasperated. "Bella, you should have told me the note was from Jessica."

I bit my bottom lip, trying not to laugh. "Well, didn't you find out pretty quickly, when Jessica caught up with you?"

Edward's hand pulled at his hair. "I guess I did, at that."

"And how did that go?"

He cringed. "Besides having my throat jack-hammered, I suppose it was okay. It could have gone much, much worse. Luckily, Alice yanked her off of me."

I couldn't help it. I burst into laughter at the image.

Edward scowled, although it seemed that he too was fighting a smile as he watched me.

I finally calmed myself. I leaned into the corner of the seat and eyed him curiously.

"So if you didn't think it was from Jessica, who'd you think it was from?"

Edward's face lost most of its color.

Several things suddenly fell into place.

"What the…" I let my voice trail off. "I'd known you for less than _TWO HOURS_, Edward—most of which consisted of you marching away from the lunch table and me sliding down the Biology ramp."

"Bella, I—"

I cut him off.

"Are you that much of a vain popinjay that you seriously thought I would have written you a note like that after knowing you for TWO HOURS?"

"Well, the note wasn't exactly romantic, Bella, so it's not like—"

"Are you seriously trying to defend yourself?"

"Yes—I mean, no. I wanted to apologize. Besides, you were the one who handed me the note. It's just there's no way I could have known the note was from Jessica. It was too..." he trailed off.

"Spit it out, Edward."

"Well-written," he whispered.

I snorted. "That's about the stupidest excuse I've ever heard."

"Bella, I'm so sorry. I made ridiculous assumptions."

"Yes, you did."

Silence.

Silence wasn't a particularly productive thing at the moment. I huffed and turned to face Edward. "You know, don't worry about it." I sighed. "Yeah, you should not have jumped to conclusions, but you really didn't know me enough to make a judgment, after all, so let bygones be bygones. I forgive you, Edward."

He looked at me steadily before speaking. "Thank you, Bella."

My chest released the air that I hadn't even realized I'd been holding in. He did the same.

We both smiled at eachother.

I turned back toward him. "You know, in retrospect, it _is_ kind of funny."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm glad you think so, but then again, you weren't the one who got unexpectedly body slammed in the hallway." Edward moved his hands expressively while he talked, and I couldn't help but notice that his left hand still held the triangle of loose-leaf.

The evil _note_. I wanted it.

I scooted closer to him.

"Edward, what did you mean when you said the note was well-written?" I placed my hand on his arm, and attempted to bat my eyelashes. His hand held only the very tip of the paper.

"Oh," he breathed. "It had a lot of unusual language." He was staring at my hand on his arm.

Huh, this seemed to be working.

"What do you mean by unusual?" I slid my hand up to his shoulder. My fingers started creeping towards his neck.

"Oh, you know…" His voiced actually sounded a little weak.

"Actually, I don't."

With that, I yanked the note from his loose palm and threw myself out of the car.

Edward seemed to blink in shock before leaping across the seat to catch me.

I slammed the door in his face, and I ran as fast as my unsteady feet could carry me. [_Cue_ the Bonanza theme song.]

I passed the first line of cars.

Behind me I heard a door slam.

Somewhere in the back of my head, I knew that there was a one out of three possibility that I would trip, and a two out of three possibility that Edward, who ran crosscountry and track, would easily catch me before I made it back to my truck.

I had passed the second line of cars when I saw him streak into my peripheral vision.

I had one more line of cars to go until I reached the truck. I knew that I wouldn't reach it in time if I kept going straight. I made a split decision to dart around a blue van.

I rounded the van at full speed, still keeping an eye out for Edward.

I couldn't stop in time. I saw the blond guy a second too late.

I dodged so that I didn't actually hit him, but my foot caught the end of his gym bag, and I felt my feet fall out from under me.

As the asphalt flew into view, I felt arms slide around me. Edward rolled me tightly to his chest as we fell. I felt the blow to my hip when our bodies smacked the asphalt, still rolling. My head grazed the ground as we reeled into the center of the parking lot.

When we came to a halt, I was lying flat on my back on the pavement, and Edward lay on top of me.

"Bella? Are you all right?" he panted. His hand brushed the hair out of my eyes.

"Just fine." My voice sounded strange.

Somewhere in the outside world, I heard shouts and feet running towards us.

"We fell pretty hard."

I felt a pang in my hip and a pounding behind my right ear, but even as my brain tried to sort out the gravity of the situation, my body was reacting to the fact that Edward Cullen lay sprawled on top of me. He was surprisingly heavy, and unsurprisingly, I liked it. I liked the way that I was small and soft, and that he was tall and broad and firm. My breathing accelerated as his did, and then, I felt something stir…

Suddenly, I felt him roll off of me.

The world spun as I slowly crept up. I looked in my right hand. Yep, I still had the note.

I was vaguely aware of the blond boy from the van running up to me, apologizing profusely. I didn't really hear him. I saw the Cullens surround us. Alice and Rosalie were yelling at Edward, something about not tackling girls. Jake had his arms on my shoulders, advising me that I shouldn't try to run in uncarpeted places.

I didn't hear any of them because I was focused on Edward, and he was focused on the note.

He looked like he was going to lunge at any second.

Oh, no way, buddy.

I held the note in front of me, so that Edward could see it. I shot him the most devilish smile I could muster.

I lifted the neckline of my shirt and shoved the note down.

His jaw dropped, as did… Jake's and blue van dude's.

Edward broke free from Alice and Rose and marchedf up to me, eyes on my chest.. "Bella, give me the note."

He actually looked like he might grab me.

"What the hell, man?" Emmett stepped in front of Edward.

"She has _my_ note."

"Oh, she does, does she?"

Emmett turned around, a goofy grin on his face, and held up his hand. We smacked a high-five.

"Block him, would you, Emmet?" I said as I climbed into the bed of my truck, unfolding the note. Edward made a move to leap around him, but both Jasper and Jake intervened.

I plopped down and began scanning through the note, commenting aloud. "Seems like she pulled some vintage Rosemary Rogers for this one—oops, take that back. It's something of a montage. Oh, no she did not pull from _Hopscotch_! That's like sacrilegious or something. And the ending seems like a combination of the Kenneth Starr report and Lolita. That's icky." As I read the signature, I gasped.

I stood and marched to the end of the truck bed. I stared down at Edward. "_Your Little Nymph!_" I stabbed at the page.

Everyone burst into laughter, but I ignored them.

"You said there was no sign-off."

Edward looked up at me in horror. "That wasn't exactly… what I said."

I think I growled.

"You thought _I_ wrote this." I pressed the note into his face. He didn't even try to take it away.

"I saw your notepad," he whispered so that only I could hear.

I froze.

And then I melted. How stupid and naïve could I have been? Somewhere in the last several minutes, I had gotten bigger than myself. I had tried to flirt with him, I had stolen his note, and I had shoved said note into my bra. I wanted to hit myself. I had been playing the fool. He had seen my pornographic doodling. No wonder he had concluded the note was from me. Even worse, he had tried to be polite until I had pushed him to the limit. I was still a silly little girl, and he was the gorgeous, untouchable boy. Nothing had changed.

I pressed the note into Edward's palm, avoiding his gaze. I hopped off the truck and strode past him. When he tried to grab my shoulder, I jerked away.

"Jake, you need a ride?" I called.

"Got my bike, Bells." He patted my shoulder.

I nodded.

I gave him a quick hug and walked to the front of the truck. I flung open the door.

"Bella! Bella!" Alice chimed, scampering up behind me. "You are _not_ getting out of going shopping."

I gave her a weak smile and motioned for her to get in.

She hopped excitedly and ran around to slide in on the other side.

As I drove out of the parking lot, I kept my ears focused on Alice, and my eyes focused on the road.

I did not look back.

_~ * ~_


	11. Storms and Hangings

_Disclaimer_: Twilight is Stephenie Meyer's.

_Author's Note_: I had issues thinking of a song for this one. Probably _Barbie Girl_ by Aqua. Go on. _Do it_. Poor, poor, Bella. (Laughs maniacally.)

* * *

~ * ~

Chapter Ten:

_In Which Bella Meets the Eye of the Storm and Edward is Hanged_

~ * ~

After the parking lot fiasco, I would have thought it would have been impossible for anythfing to distract me.

I hadn't really factored in the tornado.

Alice Cullen was the tornado.

And she was ripping my clothes off.

"Alice that's my _boob_!" I screeched in fear.

She scratched her head. "Really?" She raised her index finger and poked my white Haines cup, wearing a very scientific expression._ "_I think you need a new brassiere, dear."

"Says the four-foot tall terror who says "Breh-ZEAR" instead of bra," I countered.

My complaints did not faze Alice. She ripped my bra off and knocked me onto the cushion.

The event left me in shock. I sat with my mouth handing open, sprawled on the cushion with my hands attempting to shelter my girls.

The little sprite had the cheek to smile at me. She held up the bra, "I'm burning this," she snapped before she quickly flitted out the door, closing it behind her as she escaped my yelling.

"I didn't see you as the _type_, Alice, really! Aren't you supposed to be slapping men and sporting two-inch pit hair, _too_?!" I yelled from the changing room.

Alice came back five minutes later carrying a small skyscraper's worth of clothes.

I stared on helplessly as she advanced towards me, hangers discarded and shirt ready.

_Two hours later…_

"Alice, we agreed that I would buy the rain jacket. Nothing else. The rest is excessive and unnecessary."

"I'm replacing your bra," she replied.

"Fine—you can replace the bra. The rest is a no-go," I argued, staring with wide eyes at the pile Alice had accumulated.

"Bella..."

"No, Alice. NO."

"Bella..." she repeated. She said my name in a low tremulous voice, her huge eyes glistening ever so slightly from the excess of emotion. She looked like the most adorable little child ever, and I was the monster that had hurt her feelings.

"Oh, Alice! Are you okay? I didn't mean to! I'm so sorry."

She sniffled.

The world seemed so _wrong_.

"Do you think you could bring me a tissue? The bathroom is on the second floor."

I set out to retrieve the tissue.

When I came back with it, little Alice Cullen was happily clutching four large shopping bags.

"Surprise!" she piped.

I threw the tissue at her. You can't really "throw" tissues, so it gently wafted to her feet.

I put both hands on my hips and glared at her. "You devious little imp. I _told_ you not to buy me anything. I can't even think of how much money..." I trailed off, examining the bags.

"I _have_ the money," she held up a shiny black credit card.

"Ha-Ha-Ha. Very funnnnny. We're taking them _back_," I demanded.

"Bella, _really_. They're new clothes! New clothes! Who doesn't love new clothes?" she sang dismissively.

I gave her my scary Bella eyes.

She laughed.

"Now, come on. I need new pumps!"

~ * ~

When I crawled into my sheets that night, I couldn't feel my arms. I couldn't feel my legs. I couldn't feel the balls of my feet or my ten toes. The left wall of my room was lined with shopping bags, of which there was only bag that I myself had actually purchased. A grey rain slicker.

I told myself: never again.

Once upon a time in Phoenix (which now seemed to belong to a galaxy far, far, away) I had considered shopping something of a pastime. Renee and I would scour the sales racks, picking out outfits and exchanging feedback on the selected garments. If we found a really good sale, we'd "splurge," but we're talking tens and twenties here—what could be afforded on a single teacher's salary. I cringed at the realization that Alice had never even glanced at the sales rack.

In spite of it all, shopping with Alice had been exactly what I needed. Given the absurd spectacle in the parking lot, I had expected her to needle me with questions about the afternoon's events, but she didn't.

She had turned to me suddenly, dropping the topic of conversation about our English class. "I know we just met, but you can trust me, Bella. Let me know if you want to talk. I'm here if you need me." She didn't need to spell it out. We understood each other. I had glanced a warm smile in her direction, while still keeping my eyes on the road ahead. She smiled back, and then she had looked out the window, silent and contemplative, her expression that of a person in very deep thought.

She seemed to understand, even though I hadn't said a word.

Alice had been right earlier. We would be good friends.

I yawned. I stretched out in my bed, waiting for sleep to take me.

When it finally did, I dreamed of shopping bags with jaws and blue vans that burst from an excess of lasagna and cave men beating their chests and porcelain angels and golden goddesses floating down from the heavens. I dreamed of verdant, lush forests in which the water ran down every trail, gently pulling me to and fro. And I dreamed of the waterfall, as I often did. Only this time the dream changed. The water leapt and twirled, an animus unleashed. I tried to beat the current, tried to swim away, but the water held me still, and as I looked on, it became solid, shaping into a figure with arms and legs and a chin and nose. I kicked and smacked, but the shape held me in an iron grasp. The shape of Edward Cullen stared into my eyes like he could see my soul.

I woke up to a loud pang, followed by pain. The back of my head hurt. I had smacked it on the headboard. I rubbed the spot and muttered curses to soothe myself. _Go back to sleep, Bella._

~ * ~

The following morning Alice and Rosalie barged through my bedroom door an hour before the alarm clock was due. Alice immediately started plugging through the shopping bags that I had yet to unpack while Rosalie shoved coffee in front of my blurry eyes. "Is this from Charlie?" I raised a puffy eyebrow.

"Your dad drinks _instant_." She wrinkled her perfectly sloped nose. "This is Esme's blend." When I didn't immediately take hold of it, Rosalie popped off the lid and swirled the cup under my nose.

When the rich aroma hit my nostrils, I moaned and caught the cup in my hands, drinking in the hot liquid. I had barely pulled in a second sip when Alice snatched my coffee and ripped off my warm covers.

"Shower tiiiiiiime," she sang, dragging me down my own hallway. She flung the door closed, and once again, Alice was ripping off my clothes.

"I want my coffee back, Tinkerbelle," I grumbled miserably through the sweatshirt being yanked over my head.

"If you can get in and out in less than eight minutes—you can have the coffee back." She dangled the cup in front of me. I made a swipe, but she danced back at the last second and scampered into the hallway.

"Just because it has wings, doesn't mean it isn't evil!" I called as I flung off the last of my garments to step into the shower.

I heard a giggle from Rosalie.

When the water stopped, I barely had a chance to wrap a towel around my torso before Rosalie had me by the hair and Alice had me by the chin. While Rose pulled the blow dryer down my chunks of mahogany, Alice smeared thick streaks of makeup across my carrot-striped cheeks. The only redeeming factor in this grueling torture was that Rose returned the coffee cup. Alice kept trying to bat it out of the way, but I ignored her, glugging happily away.

They didn't let me see the outfit. They told me that if I kept my eyes closed, I could have some of Esme's Parisian quiche that was sitting on the countertop downstairs. I ultimately agreed because I could smell the pastry crust-omelet-garlic-roasted vegetable smell wafting up the stairs, and it was causing some unflattering morning drool.

I stole a peek when I felt the boots being shoved on. I don't own boots. Or, at least, as of the day before yesterday, I didn't own boots.

I realized I wasn't really wearing all that much. A scrap of a skirt. Almost see-through shirt. Suede boots.

"No!" I shrieked. "No way!" I tried to pull away, but the two vixens grabbed an arm a piece and hauled me in front of the floor length mirror on the back of my door.

"Look!" Alice demanded, as the three of us pressed into the small visual space.

I did. "We match," I groaned. There was no escaping this.

Alice gasped. "We do not _match_!" She crossed her arms across her chest and raised a haughty eyebrow, "We are simply coordinated. There's a difference. We are dressed in similar fabrics from the same designer. They are totally different outfits."

"Designer?" I gawked at her.

"Bella, the quiche is getting cold," Rose muttered offhandedly.

I pursed my lips. "It'd better be good quiche…"

~ * ~

The day passed in a series of painful encounters. Blue van-boy, who I discovered went by the name of Tyler Crowley, met me after every class to apologize with longer paragraphs and more profuse words. I had already told him there was nothing to apologize for, but he kept coming back. I had started to snip at him. Now, if he had continued to apologize to my face, I would have been polite, but since he spoke only to Bella Right and Bella Left, I was getting a bit bad-tempered.

Tyler failed to notice.

Lunch was awkward. I had made a point not to look at Edward. In fact, I had folded my arms and hid my head on the table.

Oh, yes, and Emmett had outdone himself with his greeting.

"Bella! And how be Eddie's little nymph, to-day?"

I was pretty sure he'd been waiting to say that all day.

I cursed through my folded arms and flipped an arm up to point in the general direction of Jessica's table. She was, after all, the self-labeled _little nymph_. Not me.

Jessica had been quite upset in trigonometry this morning, understandably. She looked ready to yell at me when I walked in, so I had to explain the whole mess to her. Well, I sort of explained it. I left out the unflattering details regarding my drawing and the like. Thus, she apologized for not putting her name anywhere on the note, and I apologized for not stating her name in the delivery of the note. We agreed it was a series of errors, and that Edward was a dumb jerk. Job done. Jessica was a pretty nice girl, all in all. Really cute, too. Did I mention that Edward Cullen was a dumb jerk?

Edward had tried to catch me before English this morning. Alice had stopped him. She had done so by threatening to rip out his throat and eat it for breakfast if he didn't leave me alone.

_Did I mention that I adored the little one?_

Thus, lunch was spent with my head on the table. Alice and Rosalie taking turns patting my back, while Edward looking rather sullen on the opposite side of the table. Emmett kept trying to make jokes, but he stopped after Rosalie gave him "the look."

When lunch ended, Mike Newton ran up to escort me to Biology. I actually showed bit of enthusiasm. I could feel Edward's eyes on my back and Tyler's ogley stare zooming in. Having to blow off Mike's regular requests to get coffee was cake in comparison to dealing with the other two.

When I sat down at my lab station, Mike pulled over his chair so he could continue to chat with me. As I noticed a tall figure slump into the seat next to me, I became increasingly grateful for Mike's attention. Mike informed me that his parent's Outfitters shop was looking for a person to help out. I needed a job.

I told him this.

He got scarily excited. He told me that I'd have to interview with his mom, who could be finicky, so I should meet him for breakfast on Saturday morning "to prep me," and then he'd make sure I had an interview right after. I cringed internally but accepted.

Mr. Banner called the class to order, and Mike reluctantly returned to his lab station.

I felt a finger tip on my knuckle. Edward's finger. His tingly finger. _Crap_.

"Bella, I've been trying to talk to you all day," he whispered softly into my ear. I flinched slightly, his breath against my earlobe tingled and not in a bad way either.

I pursed my lips and stared defiantly straight ahead where Mr. Banner was lecturing on about Protists.

Edward brushed the top of knuckles again. "Please, Bella," he whispered, a slight whine sneaking in.

I felt my whole body clench. My turncoat heart started beating a mile a minute. I also felt a warm, familiar wet sensation down below. _Edward Cullen is a dumb jerk. _

But still, ignoring him wasn't working, so I reached into my bag and yanked out my notepad. I scrawled out a question:

What do you want?

He rolled his eyes. My hair had fallen forward when I had reached down, and he brushed it behind my shoulder, before speaking softly into my ear. "I want to _talk_ to you, Bella."

I squirmed slightly in my seat, jerking my gaze away from him. I scribbled another note.

I'm sorry if my notepad has offended you.

He shook his head and pulled my pen out my hands. He already had two pens on his side of the desk, so I tried to snatch it back, but he clutched all of the pens in his fist behind his back. He pointed to the notepad and spoke in a fevered rush, "It's just, I wanted to apologize for yesterday. I know whatever you drew had nothing to do with me. I just wanted to try to explain myself. You refused to accept my other explanations, and I…" his face stiffened like he was trying to gain control of his features. "I spoke unthinkingly, and I've regretted it every moment since." His pursed his lips as he examined my expression, and then he grinned. "I was a bit _irked_, we'll say, after our little run, and I didn't want you to read the note, and well, I acted _poorly_."

I raised an eyebrow at his choice of words.

"Despicably?" he offered instead.

I grabbed a new pen from my bag and started in on my notepad. I drew a large "L" and six blank letter spots.

Edward looked at me questioningly.

Pick a letter.

He smiled.

"N."

_No n's._ I drew a rope.

He rolled his eyes at me. I pointed to my previous command.

"O," he muttered, shaking his head irritably.

_No o's_. I drew the head. I added the eyes and a smile for the full effect.

Edward laughed, and then chose the next letter. "E."

The first letter was an "e." I marked it in.

Edward shook his head and sighed as he stared down at the drawing. "Bella, don't you think this is a little petulant?" he asked as he picked up a pen and filled in the rest of the letters.

"E-D-W-A-R-D," the hangman paper read.

Okay, you win. You're forgiven for not being _thick_.

He laughed, and then turned to smile at me.

Before I melted on the floor, though, I hastily picked up my pen.

But just for kicks…

I drew in the body, arms, legs, and feet. _Hangman_. Edward was _hanged_. I peered down happily at my little drawing.

Edward pressed his index finger into his forehead and affected a grimace, but I couldn't help but notice a twinge of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "So are we friends?" he asked with unbelievable sweetness.

I think I grimaced.

"_Being friends_" did not seem to fit my feelings at all, but I shrugged. "We can try," I agreed.

~ * ~


	12. Lasagna and Tricks

Author's Note:

I rushed to get this chapter to you all. Holiday nonsense is taking over my life. The boy and I're having a Christmas party tonight, and I'm playing bartender. Cocktail of the night is "orgasms." They're white and contain amaretto and crème de cacao—need I say more?

If you read my other story, Waxing Crescent, you know that I often recommend whatever I've been reading. This time it's rectanglecurve's The Freshman. It's fantastic—and she needs more attention for her badass story. Seriously.

This chapter is so _male_. Even though it doesn't end that way.

* * *

Chapter Eleven:

In Which Lasagna Must Be Rationed and Tricks Are for Kids

~ * ~

I slid into my truck scratching my head. I was still trying to figure this one out.

I was trying to be friends with Edward Cullen.

Admittedly, when spoken aloud it didn't _sound_ wildly impressive, but it sure as hell _felt_ impressive. Impressive in the way that I was kinda, sorta scared shitless and intimidated as hell. Like, how can you try to be friends with someone you couldn't even look in the eye? Well, that is, without seeing images of waterbeds, tiny fig leaves, or black leather? I was not convinced of the surety of our proposed friendship.

Well, at the very least, I hadn't _promised_ him anything.

A knock at the window interrupted my reverie.

I looked up to see Jasper and Emmett with their faces squished up against the passenger side window.

I tilted my head to the side. Pressed up that way they looked a bit like Bert and Ernie. Except that Jasper (definitely, Bert) would need to have shorter, black hair…

Emmett flung open the car door, making Jasper jump back.

"Bella, you're springing us, right?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Springing you?"

Jasper rushed forward elbowing Emmett in the side. "We need a ride to your lasagna."

I gave a silly laugh. Looked like things were about to get _snug_ in the truck cabin. I waved them in. "We need to stop by the store first."

"The food store!" Emmett clapped his hands, sliding in first.

_No clue_. I had to admit: sometimes, Emmett worried me.

Jasper shook his head wearily. "Don't ask. He's just normally not allowed."

I grinned. No problems there. I started the car.

"Scoot your double bass over, Em. I need to fit."

Emmett slapped his lap and spread his hands by way of offering. "Come on, Jazzy, baby!" he leered playfully.

Jasper gave me a flat look. "Bella, please, please, please, can I drive?"

I shook my head, barely able to mouth a 'no,' laughing. This whole experience was becoming a bit surreal. The two hottest seniors in the school were squishing into my truck to "escape" and go eat my lasagna, while their girlfriends, who fate had declared my new best friends, threw pom-poms at cheerleading practice. Another very anomalous occurrence, the whole Bella-being-friends-with-cheerleaders-thing.

Jasper slid into the seat next to Emmett, purposely knocking him harder than necessary.

"Now, no need to be rough."

Jasper cackled. "Oh, please, Em, the walls in our house are _thin_. I know for a fact that you like it rough."

I choked on a laugh. _T-M-I._

"Oh, Jazzy," Emmett cooed, running his hand down Jasper's leg. "You really do look like your sister. Same pretty blue eyes, yellow hair. You gotta know, that shit's turning me on."

Jasper smacked his hand away. "Thank God Alice looks nothing like _you_."

"Yeah, what's with that, dude?"

"What's with what?"

"Alice looks like a four foot china doll. What's up with the little girl fetish? You're 6'2"."

"I'm telling Alice you said that. That _little girl _is going to scythe your balls off," he threatened, before turning to me with a desperate expression on his face. "Bella, can this truck go _any_ faster?"

"It punches back when the speedometer clicks over 50."

Emmett was apparently not done with antagonizing Jasper. "I see through your crap, Jasper, my emo-bro. Alice is a front, of course. What you truly crave is man-flesh. I know you try to deny it, but seriously, I understand. I mean who can resist this?" He flexed a gallon-sized bicep. When Jasper ignored him, he turned toward me and wiggled his eyebrows.

I rolled my eyes and laughed, but admittedly, I couldn't be sure that I'd ever seen a nicer looking bicep, so I was a little turned on, too…

"Dude, at the very least, leave _Bella_ out of your vainglory."

"So speaking of fleshy biceps, Bella, what's up with you and the Indian?"

"Jacob."

"Jake the indian."

I sighed, exasperated. "Jake's been my friend since forever. Why are you asking?"

"No reason," Emmett defended, his index finger brushing his chin, as he faked looking impassive.

"Kid's got a huge crush on you, Bella," Jasper explained.

I brushed his comment aside. "We're just friends."

I saw them both exchange a knowing look.

"And how was Biology class with our dearest _brother_?"

"Fine. We're on speaking terms."

Another knowing look.

"Where is he, anyway?" I asked.

"Running," they both said at the same time.

"Cross-country hasn't started yet. Why is he running?"

"When you're that wound up and Esme's yelling at you for using up the _cold_ water…"

Jasper elbowed Emmett in the side, cutting in, "Like I said before, Bella, Edward tends to wallow and brood. It's his niche in the family. Thus, he plays hours of classical piano and every day, he runs—half way to Seattle."

"When did you first meet Edward, Bella?" Emmett asked.

"Yesterday."

"Huh." He scratched his chin, looking confused. Jasper also looked perplexed by something.

Did I see another one of those _looks_?

I pulled into the grocery store parking lot.

Emmett sat up stick straight in his seat and stared ahead as if seeing some great miracle. "The food store!" he yelled with evident joy. He practically crawled over Jasper to get out of the truck first.

I had a feeling that shopping would take longer than usual today.

~ * ~

When we emerged from the store, I carried one bag, Jasper held two (for me), and Emmett had four of his own bags—containing Doritos, Slim Jims, Coke Zero, Cheese Whiz, whipped cream, more Slim Jims, Fruit Rollups, and assorted candy, all of which he carried in a single hand, while in the other he exaltedly chomped on an opened Slim Jim.

I learned that most of the Cullen family—including Jasper—disapproved of such chemically-composed substances.

Emmett apparently didn't.

"Emmett, you're going to have to burn or bury most of that crap before we get home anyway, and why the hell did you get canned whipped cream? If you take real cream—the kind that comes from a cow—and whisk it, you'd get the same result."

"But this is in a can."

"It's doesn't even list milk in the ingredients."

"Don't worry, Jasper, I'm saving that for your sister."

"You did not just say that," Jasper attempted to knock Emmett on the head.

Emmett caught his hand. "What? I was talking about the whip cream."

"Either _way_," Jasper elbowed Emmett in the side.

"You two, _stop_. I. Am. Trying. To. Drive. So _STOP_," I snapped.

~ * ~

When we got home, Jake sat waiting on the front porch. Jasper and Emmett leapt out of the truck, carrying groceries inside. As soon as they set down the groceries, Jasper and Emmett proceeded to arm wrestle to sort out the various insults exchanged in the car. Emmett won, which really didn't surprise me, but then Jake had to join in the testosterone-fest. I kept pulling them away one at a time to help with the lasagna preparation. Jasper and Jacob proved to be useful. I had Jasper chopping vegetables and Jake at the stove. Emmett, well… After he tried to prove he could juggle knives and barely missed Jasper's toes, I ended up putting Emmett in the living room with a glass of lemonade, his Slim Jims, and ESPN.

It kind of felt like babysitting.

Jake and Jasper eventually migrated into the living room once the game got going.

I expected Charlie to be home with Billy around 6:00 PM. Thus, when the doorbell rang at a quarter 'til, just as the pasta was boiling over, the oven timer was beeping, and the boys were shrieking and whooping about a touchdown in the living room, I flung the door open without looking and raced back to the stove top.

"Need some help?"

I gasped, turning around and unconsciously letting the pot lid that I had been holding fall from my fingers and crashed on the floor, reverberating and rolling in circles until it fell over, making one final lingering clang.

Edward reached down and scooped the lid up. "Well, it would seem so." He had a crooked smile stretch across his face.

"You don't eat meat," I stated flatly.

"I already ate." He looked like he was trying not to laugh.

"Then, why are you here?"

"Why didn't you invite me?" He put on a fake pout.

"Like I said, you don't eat meat. This is lasagna with Bolognese sauce. I only ever invited Jake and his dad. Your brothers sort of invited themselves."

He gave a single nod. "They would do that. Anyway," he pointed to the stove, "so what's next?"

I discovered that Edward could cook. He started peeking through my fridge and pulling out various ingredients, while bugging me about the location of others. He heated a sauce pan and proceeded to make a béchamel sauce. As long as I didn't look him directly in the eyes for more than half a second, I found that we could have a pleasant conversation. When we had everything assembled, Edward helped me layer the two pans of lasagna and throw them in the oven.

Loud hoots and roars continued to pour from the living room.

"What next?" he asked, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed over his head.

"Salad…" I trailed off, distracted by the fact the muscles in his chest were noticeably pronounced by his current pose.

"So what do you need for the salad?"

"Huh?" I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts while castigating myself. _Bad, bad, bad Bella. _"Oh, I just need to get the salad bowl."

The salad bowl was on the top shelf. I always had to hop to reach it. I put my hand on the counter, pushing off with a little hop to try and hook the lip of the bowl with my finger tips. I missed.

"Bella, please, let me."

"No, I can get it. I—"

Edward tried to reach around me to grab the bowl at the same time that I hopped. This resulted in my knocking his hand and the bowl slipping out of his fingers. Edward jumped forward to catch it, just as I turned. He caught it but his force threw him forward and into me.

I found myself lying back on my elbows over the counter with Edward leaning over me.

"I caught it," he said breathlessly.

I wiggled my head. It was supposed to be a nod.

Edward didn't back away. Instead, his hand grazed the top line of my cheek, causing every last nerve ending in my body to go on the fritz with the electricity of it. "Are you okay, Bella?" he asked as soft as a whisper.

Another wiggly weak nod. He was so close. I stopped breathing.

We both heard the jingle as the front door opened. Edward leapt back, leaning against the opposing wall, and I righted myself. Charlie pulled open the door, pushing Billy in. Jake, Emmett, and Jasper ran in from the living room.

"Hey, dad, Charlie," Jake greeted. "And oh, when did you get here?" He gave Edward an unwelcoming stare.

I stepped in to make introductions. "So, yes, Jake, you know Edward. You guys, this is my dad, Charlie, and this is Jake's dad Billy. Billy, dad, these are the Cullens—you already know Rose and Alice—this is Emmett, Jasper, and Edward."

Charlie shook hands with them, "I know your father. Carlisle is a good man, good doctor."

Billy shook hands less enthusiastically, eyeing the Cullens a bit suspiciously, especially Edward.

"Dinner should be in ten minutes. You guys want to help me set the table? Jake do you want to get drinks? Dad, Billy, go relax in the living room."

After they left, Emmett looked at Edward accusingly. "You came to tattle, didn't you?"

Edward shook his head at his brother. "You are perfectly capable of digging your own grave. I _promise_ I have no desire to dig it for you."

Jasper walked up and clapped Emmett on the back. "He's not here to tattle, but he _is_ here for…"

"The food!" Emmett piped unexplainably. "Eddie needs some meat like the rest of us."

"I already ate, Emmett," he said defiantly but then he stiffened as he took in Emmett's impious grin. "I'll have some salad," he muttered, and then proceeded to lay plates on the table.

Jake turned to me, and in a perfect imitation of Homer Simpson mocked, "Lisa, all normal people love meat. If I went to a barbeque and there was no meat, I would say 'Yo Goober! Where's the meat!?' I'm trying to impress people here, Lisa. You don't win friends with salad."

I laughed, as did Emmett and Jasper. Edward rolled his eyes.

Jake turned back to me, and in his "serious" Homer voice asked, "Are you saying you're never going to eat any animal again? What about bacon?"

"No," I replied in my Lisa voice.

"Ham?"

"No."

"Pork chops?"

I put both hands on my hips. "Dad, those all come from the same animal."

"Heh Heh Heh. Ooh, yeah, right, Lisa. A wonderful, magical animal."

I burst into giggles.

Jake had a strange look on his face. I couldn't make it out, but it looked like he had just determined something. He moved unexpectedly toward me and pulled me into a bone-crushing hug, lifting me off the ground.

"Jake-too-tight-Can't-breath-Down-please."

He set me down and grinned at me. "We should watch the Simpsons together again. Soon."

"Sure," I said eyeing him. He was being weird. We never planned anything. We just hung out and then made spur of the moment decisions on what to do.

"Bella, you're not really going to work at Newton's are you?" Edward asked.

"Newton's?" Jake raised an eyebrow at me.

"Why the heck do you want to work at Newton's?" Emmett asked. "Mike's a douche bag. You'd have to work with him, you know."

"I need a job."

"And why are you having breakfast with him on Saturday morning then?"

"Aw, Bells, not _Newton_," Jake groaned.

"He said his mom was snippy. He's just preparing me for the interview," I defended.

"Snippy is a kind word. She's a bit horrible, actually," Edward muttered. His face suddenly lit up. "Bella, you should work for my mom. I know Esme could use the extra help with the volume of catering business she's getting, and you already know the basics."

Jasper and Emmett nodded eagerly with Edward's words. Jake muttered something under his breath and proceeded to stare at the ceiling.

"I don't know…"

Jasper cut in, "Think about it. You don't have to answer right away. We'll talk to Esme about it."

"I'll think about it."

I went to check on the lasagna.

~ * ~

When I finally lay down that night, I was exhausted—but not.

The night had been fun. The lasagna had turned out well. Emmett had eaten a whole pan by himself. Everyone had laughed and joked at dinner. Charlie had seemed to genuinely like the Cullens—especially Emmett. I know Charlie didn't get the vegetarian thing at all… I'd have to bring him some of Esme's cooking.

The job. I should probably take the job. If I took the job, I'd be around Edward—even more.

Edward.

_The countertop._

Edward had seemed like he was going to…

I really needed to avoid such ridiculous ponderings.

I felt no qualms, however, about indulging in a little fantasy here or there… I reached under my bed and pulled out my trusty rabbit.

I picked it up, the tail-end bobbing ever so slightly.

"Hello, rabbit."

I did my fake bunny voice, "Tricks are for kids."

"No, rabbit."

"That's right. Tricks are for BELLA!"

I turned it on to the first setting and nudged down my pajama pants.

Yes, indeed. I was a silly, horny, little girl.

~ * ~


	13. Bacon and Skins

Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer, folks.

Author's Note:

This chapter should probably be called Bella's lust-fest. Do enjoy.

* * *

Chapter 12:

In Which Bella has Her Bacon Stolen and All the Men Are in Skins

~ * ~

The next morning and the morning after that and so on, Alice and Rosalie showed up in my bedroom before dawn even had the proper chance to crack. We had a routine. They smeared the impenetrable make-up on my face and twisted my hair into unthinkable contortions and dressed me in shirts and pants and skirts with labels and names I'd never even heard of. Then, while I tore through breakfast and Rose sipped black coffee, Alice would talk to Charlie about fashion and shoes and travel. Strangely enough, Charlie would always listen. Charlie owned three pairs of shoes—black shoes, tennis shoes, and sandals. He wore his uniform 90% of the time. He had never traveled east of the Mississippi.

Yet Charlie listened to Alice with rapt fascination.

Some things cannot be explained.

I sat with the Cullens at lunch. We ate. We laughed. I still felt like I was going to wake up at any moment and these dream-like creatures that I called "friends" would be swept away. I glanced at Edward—constantly—but I did not _look_.

Too dangerous. Too obvious.

Mike Newton made a point of walking with Edward and me to Biology. He kept trying to slip his arm through mine.

On Friday, I let him.

I had news for him, and I felt like the least I could do for him was to lend him my arm. There was something about Mike's essence that seemed so golden retriever, and I felt like the neglectful owner about to deny him a much anticipated walk to the doggie park.

I had talked to Esme on the phone the night before.

I had decided to take the job.

Edward knew this. He had sat next to me at lunch and given Alice a run for her money chatter-wise with his descriptions and stories about how his mom had started the business and how she'd learned the recipes and then started creating her own.

I wasn't sure I caught half of what he said. The whisper-quick movements of his lips and the resonant cadence of his voice had sent me wandering through an uncharacteristically vivid lunchtime daydream, one that involved both of us tangled and bare backed on top of the lunch table with chocolate syrup pooling on my stomach, and Edward holding a celery stick and tracing designs all the way down…

_Bad, _Bella_._

So back to the current issue…

Edward knew this—that I was taking the job with his mom—and yet when I told him I needed to talk with Mike for a minute, his eyes looked empty and blank. He turned on his heel and stalked away.

Just like Jasper said: a brooding ball of sensitivity.

And one that I completely failed to understand.

"So, Mike…"

Mike threw his arm around my waist and pulled me close to his side while we walked. "Yeah, hey, Bella, God, I thought Cullen was never going to leave. What time can I pick you up on Saturday for breakfast?"

"Uh, about that, Mike. I found another job…"

"Oh…" He looked crestfallen, like a fuzzy little pup that had his perfectly stubby and fluffy iddle-bitty tail trodden upon.

I spoke without thinking. "Maybe I can make it up to you somehow…"

Mike turned on me, sad face gone. "You can," he smiled, a gleam in his eyes. He looked… Oh, God—he looked _way_ to damn happy. "You're still coming with me to breakfast this Saturday, and then we'll go to the beach."

The beach. Not the _beach_. "Uh, and what would we do at the beach?"

We walked through the door to Biology. I felt Mike's hand tighten around my waist. I saw Edward seated, facing forward at our lab station. Mike gave me an innocent expression, "Work on your volleyball skills, of course."

I scowled at him.

_I see through you, Pinocchio._

"Eh, Mike, as much as I appreciate you helping me out in P.E., I'm not really sure I want to prolong the torture…"

"Bella," he spoke and I heard the disappointment creeping into his voice. "It's just that I'm not going to be spending as much time with you, and I thought…" he trailed off again, his normally sparkly blue eyes clouded over.

Unconsciously, I found myself nodding and comforting him.

He gave me a rather silly smile. You would have thought I'd thrown him a ball.

"Cool. I'll drop by your place Saturday morning at 10:00 AM, if that works, and then you should bring comfortable shoes because we'll be head out to the beach right afterwards."

He said this last part directly in front of my lab station. I realized that Mike wasn't looking at me but at Edward as he spoke.

I frowned at Mike.

When I sat down, I turned to look at Edward, but he snapped his head away from mine. It seemed like we were back to the notepaper…

**What's the matter?**

He ignored me, so I tugged on his sleeve. He turned toward the notepad frowning. He picked up a pen, and without looking down, scrawled his reply in his elegant script.

Nothing.

**Then why are you acting like I shoved a fork in your leg?**

I'm not.

**Yes, you are.**

Very persuasive response.

I poked him in the side. He caught my hand.

We both stared at our hands.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, and then he dropped them. He picked up his pen again.

Bella, you don't even really like Newton. Why did you agree to go out with him?

I rolled my eyes. I picked up my pen, and my pathetic penmanship looked even worse than normal.

**I felt guilty. He just looked sad when I told him I couldn't work with him.**

"Bella..." Edward said my name in an exasperated growl, but then he looked at me with unexpected sweetness. "I wish I knew what you were thinking."

I just stared at him.

He took a long breath, and then he turned away, stealing his face away from mine. He picked up the supplemental packet Mr. Banner had given us. His forehead wrinkled and frowned. He slid the top pages to me.

In a bored voice he muttered, "So about Protists…"

~ * ~

Charlie and I were sitting in the kitchen when I heard the knock on the door.

"That'd be Newton?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah."

"Don't sound excited or anything."

I shrugged, "We're just friends going out for breakfast, dad."

"Newton's a good kid. I like the Newton's. Nice folks. They have a public service member discount over there, you know."

"Can't say I did," I muttered before opening the door.

"Hey, Bella," Mike greeted. He stuck his head in the doorway. "How's it going, Chief?"

Charlie looked up from his paper, "Oh, hey there, Mike. You know, same old, same old."

"Bye, dad," I called, walking out past Mike.

I heard my dad. "Take care of my girl, Mike."

"Will do, Sir."

This was so totally coming off as a date, and Charlie wasn't helping.

~ * ~

Mike and I managed to enjoy a cheerful conversation on our way over to the Fork's Diner, one of Fork's three "fine dining" establishments. Mike, like Emmett and Jasper, played football and was explaining the Forks football scene to me. Frankly, I thought most sports in general were simply brute, Darwinist forms of testosterone release, only acceptable in a civilized society because crueler and more tortuous forms of "who's got the biggest phallus" were banned, but I didn't say any of this.

I let Mike talk about sports.

We slid into a booth and ordered eggs and toast and diner coffee.

Mike continued to talk about football.

I continued to smile and nod.

I perked up when he mentioned that Jessica was going to take the job at his parents' store.

"Really, Mike? That's great. Jessica's really great."

"Yeah, Jessica's cool," he agreed. "I'd just really hoped that you'd be the one."

_Awkward._ Time to change the subject.

"Oh, hey, did you check out the latest Batman movie, yet?" I had seen the movie the week before school started with Jake and Embry. It was frickin' awesome.

"No, I haven't" Mike said excitedly, and then reached across the table and gripped my palm. "But we should go together."

I gently attempted to extricate my hand. "Eh, I actually already saw it Mike."

My attempt at retrieving my hand failed. Mike had a firm grip on it. "Then we should see that other new action movie. Man, I forget what it's called…"

"Eh, Mike, I'm not…" I stopped short.

Mike's foot was brushing up against mine underneath the table.

"Bella, you will go with me, won't you?"

Crap. The goddamn puppy face. What was I supposed to do?

"Bella!"

The deep bass made Mike and I jump, and I finally managed to rip my hand away. I looked up to see Emmett Cullen standing in front of my table.

Alice poofed out of nowhere and poked her head underneath his arm. "Bella!" Alice chimed, her eyes huge.

Emmett looked over to Mike. "Hey, dude, how's it going?"

Mike looked like he wanted to hit Emmett, but he also looked a little afraid. "Hi, Emmett," he said flatly.

Emmett slid into the booth next to me.

He was staring at the bacon.

"You're going to eat that, Bella?"

I shook my head.

The bacon disappeared.

"Emmett Cullen!"

I looked up to see Rosalie, glorious and furious, with both hands on her hips.

She started hitting Emmett on the back. "Emmett, we already talked about this. Spit it out!" She pounded harder.

Emmett tried to catch her arms, but she kept dodging and kept hitting. "I already swallowed it! Geez, Rose. Do you really want me to up-chuck the bacon bits at the table?"

Rose stopped, but from the expression on her face, it appeared that upchucking bacon bits was only the start of her list. Her expression calmed, however, and she turned to me with her lips slightly pursed, almost like there was a smirk in there…

"Oh, Bella, how are you?" She plopped down prettily on Emmett's lap. She straightened her skirt and then looked up at Mike, smiling innocently. "Oh! Hi, Mike. We're not interrupting you two, are we?"

Mike opened his mouth, but I cut in. "No, no, no. Although, I have to admit I'm a little surprised to see you all here."

Alice flashed her pearly whites at me.

It had become readily apparent that my friends were a pack of conniving little hyenas.

I loved them for it.

"Alice, you're here… So where's Jasper?"

"Behind you," she chimed.

I turned around in the booth to see Jasper—and Edward.

"Hello, Bella."

"Hey, you guys..." I trailed off. I was glad I was wearing the clay-like make-up, because otherwise my cheeks would have been crimson.

Jasper sat down in the booth, and Alice plopped in his lap. Edward pulled up a chair at the end of the table.

Mike was shooting death glares at Edward. Edward had a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"So what are you guys up to this afternoon?" Emmett asked, nabbing a fork and stabbing at my uneaten hash browns.

"The beach."

"Which beach?" Jasper asked enthusiastically.

Mike looked like he really didn't want to answer. "La Push," he muttered starring out the window.

Emmett's eyes got huge, and he smacked both hands down on the table. "No. Fucking. Way. Guess where we were just headed!?"

Obvious. Obvious. Obvious. Emmett looked like he was having way too much fun to be believable.

"We're meeting some of the La Push guys for some Rugby," Jasper offered.

I raised an eyebrow. "Might I inquire which La Push guys?"

Emmett grinned. "Jake's rounding up some guys."

I groaned. This was too much.

"Mike, you wouldn't turn down a solid game of rugby, would you?"

Mike still looked like he wanted to punch Emmett.

"Come on, dude. We need an extra guy, and after that practice last Thursday, you could use some extra play."

Emmett had thrown down the dude gauntlet. I felt like I could taste the male-tension in our overcrowded booth.

"Why not?" Mike grumbled.

"Awesome!" Emmett boomed.

~ * ~

Mike drove to La Push with Emmett Cullen sprawled across his back seat. Emmett had made multiple excuses to get a ride with Mike and me—like Rose threatening to kill him, never having enough room in the Volvo, etc. I would have believed him if he hadn't kept winking at me.

When we arrived at the beach, Jacob, Embry, Quil, and two guys I hadn't met before were sitting around a bunch of rocks. The younger guy looked vaguely familiar.

I threw open the door of Mike's car and ran out.

My foot caught on rock, and I started to fall, but Jake swept me up easily into his arms.

"Watch it there, Bells. You know if you break your other arm, Charlie might actually get mad at me."

"Pshhaw," I waggled my nose at him. "Like Charlie could ever get mad at you."

Jake pulled me up closer and whispered in my ear. "Newton looks a bit pissy."

I grinned and whispered back, "You could say that…"

"Stop hogging Bella!" Another pair of russet arms yanked me away from Jake, and I realized that Emby had his hands on my waist.

"Embry put me down!" I barked. In a much sweeter voice, "Hi, Quil."

"What's with that, Bella? Why don't I get the nice greeting?"

I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Because you're a stupid brute, that's why," a raven-haired girl yelled out as she sprinted up to our grouping. She put her arm around the older guy whom I didn't recognize.

"You're Isabella Swan."

"You look familiar…"

"It's okay. I'm Leah Clearwater—the little one over there is my brother Seth."

"Oh! Sue and Harry's kids."

She nodded. She was about to say something else when Emmett started hollering about getting the teams divided up.

Farther down the beach I noticed that Alice was insistently pressing a cowboy hat onto Jasper's head. Jasper kept trying to take it off, but Jake clapped him on the back, laughing. I couldn't hear what he said, but Jasper finally nodded and kept the hat on.

Alice looked gleeful and she danced over and insisted that I join her and Rosalie under the shade of a tall cedar. She told Leah to come, too.

"Not yet. I have to call it."

"Call what?" I asked.

"Oh, you'll see."

The guys had grouped together in a circle. They were disputing something. Leah sauntered into the midst of them. Initially I heard more bickering. Emmett yelled something about "Pale people deserve rights, too!" More bickering erupted, followed by silence, and then a roar of laughter, and Leah emerged looking as smug as a cat.

She sat down next to us.

"What was that all about?"

"They were arguing about shirts and skins."

Alice, Rose, and I all sat straighter.

"So who is what?"

"Oh," Leah breathed happily. "They both wanted to be skins. It's hot out today. Jake argued that your boys would get sunburns if they went barebacked. Your Emmett thought he was being unfair," she laughed.

"So…" Rose asked impatiently. We all watched the guys as they plotted strategy in their separate huddles.

"Oh, I didn't think it was fair for any of them to have to wear their shirts if they didn't want to. I suggested that it be ladies' choice."

We all wanted to kiss Leah, but we didn't. Our eyes were focused on the beach in front of us with rapt attention.

They all ripped off their shirts in semi-unison. You'd have almost have thought that they plotted the little bit of theater.

I, of course, noticed Edward first. Edward did not have the biggest muscles—nor was he the tallest, but he was the prettiest. As if the green eyes and perfectly shaped face weren't enough, I could see each and every muscle in his stomach, and then there was the way the muscles in his back rippled when he hunched over…

Leah's voice interrupted my ogling, "I have to say Alice dear. The cowboy hat is a fucking turn on."

Alice laughed. "I don't know, Leah. I'm starting to think I'd like my cowboy to go with some indian."

Leah laughed.

Rosalie nodded her head slowly, her mouth was gaping slightly. "Ladies, we should do this every Saturday."

The agreement was unanimous.

I noticed the rest of the boys. Mike was definitely the least impressive—not small by any means, but he didn't seem to have the agile grace that the rest of them possessed. Leah's boyfriend Sam was incredibly tall. Both he and Jake had long hair that fell down their back. Jake… well, Jake surprised me. I realized that we hadn't really gone swimming together this summer, since I had arrived just before school started. Jake had, well, _grown_. I had noticed that he really seemed to like picking me up the last few weeks, but what I hadn't noticed was the girth of his biceps…

I hadn't even realized I was fanning myself until Alice handed a flat notebook to me so that I could do so more effectively.

The game had started.

I hid my face a lot. Rugby isn't powder-puff, and the boys tackled each other with abandon.

Was it my imagination or did Mike seemed to get tackled more than the rest?

Alice laughed, "Mike's the slowest."

I didn't realize I'd spoken aloud.

"And Edward is the fastest," Rosalie said, smiling at me. "Emmett has yet to forgive Edward for sticking with cross country and not being a receiver."

"I don't know," Leah murmured. "Jake and Sam are pretty fast."

"Oh, just watch," Rose replied.

The moment came.

Emmett plowed down Quil, and snatched the ball. He looked directly at Edward as Jasper got blocked by Embry. Emmett threw, and Edward and Jake dashed after it at the same time.

The ball flew in a long arc down the beach, and Edward and Jake raced toward the end of the arc.

Edward broke ahead.

He flung himself upward and caught the ball against his chest.

In the next moment, Jake slammed into him, the thump of their bodies sounding down the beach. They toppled, and rolled across the sand. When they both rolled to a stop, Edward was clutching the ball and his chest—and Jake was cursing and holding his right arm in an odd way.

I hadn't even realized I had been running, until I stood over the two of them.

"Don't—Run—Bells—Bad—Idea," Jake gasped. His arm was definitely broken.

"Bad idea," Edward groaned, his fingers were pressed along his ribs.

I spun on my feet to face the others as they gathered. "Someone call an ambulance. Now."

I spun back to Jake and Edward.

"You stupid, stupid boys! Jake, your arm is in multiple pieces. Edward, is it your rib? Where are you hurt?"

"A rib and I think I hit my head."

"Crap. We need to get you both to a hospital. Jasper's calling and…"

Edward's rasping voice interrupted me. "Bella," he whispered. His eyes were focused on nothing, and a sheen of sweat mixed with sand coated his forehead and bronze hair. "Bella, you're sooo pretty."

My heart seemed to stop, and then Edward passed out.

"Edward," I fell to my knees next to him, and started patting his cheeks. "Edward! You need to wake up. Seriously, you need to stay awake with me, okay?"

It wasn't working.

I kept patting and smacking his cheeks and waiting for his eyes to pop open and then for some stupid reason I kissed the tip of his nose.

Edward's eyes didn't open, but I saw a smile creep across his face.

I realized that everyone behind me was silent.

Oh, God. I just did that.

I heard Jake's voice from the side. "Dude, Bella, that's not exactly fair, is it?"

I turned towards him, rolling my eyes, but I leaned over and smacked a peck on his forehead.

"Now, shut the fuck up, Jake."

~ * ~

Review!

~ * ~


	14. God Pixie and Closet

_Disclaimer:_ If I owned Twilight, I'd have already bought a chunk of wilderness and be at my own waterfall.

_Author's Ramblings:_

This chapter was achieved under great duress--mostly because I wrote it along the four hour drive across Missouri with my dearest brother, who took great delight in slamming my laptop shut every other minute--because apparently I couldn't maintain our cynical exchange of barbs to his satisfaction--gotta love family, right?

So, this chapter is a bit different, I hope you enjoy.

* * *

Chapter 13:

In Which a God, a Pixie, and a Closet Come into Play

(as opposed to lions and witches and wardrobes)

~ * ~

So, I was at the waterfall.

The air was chillier than the last time I was here, and I was much, much more confused.

~ * ~

Two weeks had passed since the "oopsy-rugby-kissy" as Emmett had titled the moment of mortification. He paid me the lone favor of not saying the phrase in front of Edward.

The ambulance had rushed Edward and Jake to the E.R.—where Edward's dad was waiting, as he was the surgeon on-call.

Dr. Cullen—or Carlisle, as I was instructed to call him—had greeted me with familiarity. "Nice to see you again, Bella!" he had said, which was very odd, because I did not remember ever meeting him, and any female—single or otherwise—would have remembered meeting the golden-haired demigod.

When I looked confused, Carlisle had laughed. "I would have been surprised if you had remembered me. I believe our exchange was limited to 'Hello, I'm Dr. Cullen, I'll be your surgeon' followed by your passing out from the anesthesia."

Huh. And I thought I'd dreamed of God.

~ * ~

A single unsettling event had happened afterward.

Alice Cullen had confronted me.

When I say confronted, I mean the little imp had stalked me into an empty waiting room and threatened a single word:

"Spill."

"Spill what?"

"You like my brother."

I stared at her and mumbled, "dudntmatternotsureheduzntlikemeanyway."

"I see," she said smoothly.

And scarily enough, I knew that she did.

She sat down, pretending to smooth out a wrinkle in her skirt that didn't exist. "Bella, Edward likes you, but you can't do anything about it right now."

I made a somewhat disbelieving horse sound—the sound that a horse makes when it shakes its head while snorting a little "whinny."

"Edward has issues with girls, Bella."

"What—is he… gay?"

_Please say "no."_

"No—not at all. It's just—he's had few unfortunate experiences."

I looked at her curiously.

"It's just that Edward tends to clam up at the first sign of physical exchange," she declared.

"Like, how?" I pressed.

She continued, "There was this incident with a Russian foreign exchange student—Tanya—who crawled on top of him and shoved her tongue down his throat—she was two or three years older than Edward—and he didn't want to hurt her feelings—always the gentleman, Edward—so he didn't shove her off of him but instead let it go on, and no one could figure out why he didn't want to continue with his Russian-English tutoring exchange anymore, but then I finally walked into the living room one day and saw her pinning and tongue-chucking my white-faced brother…"

Alice sighed.

"Oddly enough, it keeps happening, like with Jessica the first day of school."

"Okay, I get it. You know that I, like every other girl in the school, find Edward attractive. I even kissed his nose on the beach, but it doesn't matter, because Edward will never like me, and I won't jump him or anything so ridiculous. Are we done?"

Alice gave a prissy little huff.

"Edward likes you."

"Yeah, we get along."

"No, Bella, I mean Edward _really—_"

"Right-o, Alice—I'm going to check on Jake," I shoved passed her and ran.

~ * ~

Edward was an ornery, old grouch about the cracked rib. It stifled his ability to run a "good length" on a daily basis, and when he said a "good length," he meant the number of steps I take in a total year.

But I had started the job with Esme, who, I might add, was _the nicest, sweetest woman alive,_ so three days a week after school, I spent the afternoon separating phyllo dough sheets, molding pastry crusts, chopping the full rainbow of vegetables, peeling fruit, and learning how to mix sauces in the Cullen mansion in the backwoods of Forks.

Edward almost always helped me. We kneaded dough together, and flour would coat the front of his hair, and I'd want to run my hands through it and fluff out the white powder, but I wouldn't. We would make Esme's secret chocolate surprise cookies and lick the beaters afterwards, and I would find myself staring at the leftover smudge on his bottom lip, so then I'd need to drink a whopper glass of jasmine ice tea to calm myself. We also chatted and argued—constantly. Edward complained endlessly about the state of affairs in the world—and about not being able to run—and about how stupid rugby was. In return, I berated him for being such a cynic, always changing the subject to books and movies instead—which always worked, and sighed sadly at the thought that I'd never see another rugby game with a shirtless Edward in it.

And I'd go home in the evenings full from the food, but still ravenously hungry…

One huge side benefit to the cooking at Esme's included not having to worry about cooking for Charlie—because I just brought food home from work.

Of course, I knew Charlie would be hesitant about the "new stuff," but I started off by just setting the bowls in front of him in the living room when I came home. At first he looked down curiously, but then I left to go grab some homework out of my book bag, and when I came back Charlie was digging away at the bowl.

"Really good chicken, Bells. What's the sauce?"

The sauce on the spicy _tofu_ chicken was teriyaki.

So, I said, "teriyaki."

"Good stuff, Bells," Charlie murmured.

~ * ~

And then there was the closet incident.

I had run out to the post office on Saturday morning to post a birthday present for Renee. When I came back, Charlie was sitting in the living room, and he was helping himself to a heaping pile of bagels and lox set out on the coffee table.

"Alice is here," Charlie brightly informed, pointing to the food.

Suspicious.

"Where is she?"

"Oh, she said something about a shirt in your closet."

I froze and stared wide-eyed at my father for a fraction of a second, before storming up the stairs.

It was even worse than I had imagined.

Alice Cullen, singing away happily, was tearing through the contents of my wardrobe.

An amused Edward sat on my bed.

I marched up to Alice and attempted to slide around to block her access to the closet. It didn't work. Alice shoved me aside.

"Alice, seriously, this is ridiculous. Who sneaks into people's houses and assaults people's clothes?"

"Move, Bella. I'm not done. Those pants should be sent back to your grandma."

I tried to get around her again, but her small iron arms grabbed me, pushed me, and shoved me down—and into Edward's lap.

"Hold her," she commanded.

And Edward put his arms around me, loosely, but still… I wasn't moving. The room seemed a bit hazy. I could feel the definition and firmness of his quads beneath me and his arms wrapped around me, and then there was his breath on my neck.

Alice looked so very pleased with herself.

Because I was trying not to focus on the fact that my nipples had hardened, that I had goose bumps on my arms, or that I could feel the moisture rapidly building between my legs, I wasn't paying attention like I should have been when Alice pulled the oversized sock from the side of my closet.

I jerked forward, out of Edward's lap, and towards Alice, opening my mouth to yell.

But she already had the sock down.

My Rabbit.

On display.

For Edward.

I wanted to die. In fact, I'd do it right now. I was going to find a shovel and dig a nice little grave. I'd even bring my own flowers and everything. Let no one else be bothered.

Alice Cullen cocked her head to the side as she examined the vibrator.

"Bella!" she snapped, putting a hand on her hip and turning toward me. I was frozen under her gaze. I wanted to die of mortification again and again. Where was a proper spade when a girl needed one?

"Where the hell did you get one in yellow?" she whined, pointing at the Rabbit.

I stared at her.

"Mine is red," she explained innocently.

Behind me, I heard a door slam.

"Apparently, Edward needed a bathroom break," she stated, lips pursed, and then she broke out laughing.

I scowled at her.

And then Alice Cullen attempted to discuss preferred brands and models of vibrators—in an unnecessarily loud voice. I threw socks at her, which she easily danced away from. Eventually, I pleaded with her to stop.

She did, but only after I agreed to some serious shopping concessions.

Edward stuck his head around the door after several minutes, and not looking at either of us, mumbled something about needing to run home.

We did not speak of the closet incident again.

~ * ~

Then there was today, today being the first day that I had gone to school without any foundation—cream, clay, liquid or otherwise. Per Alice's orders, I had spread on a just a tiny amount of cream blush to even out the very faint tangerine hint in my cheeks.

In Biology, we had advanced from Protists to more complex organisms—complex being "flatworms," and Mr. Banner wanted us to draw and dissect them. This was our first dissection.

Understandably, I refused to wield the scalpel.

"Bella, we both need to do the dissection," Edward insisted.

"I'll draw," I snapped.

"Bella…" he whined in his velvety voice.

Whining Edward always equaled wetness between Bella's legs, so I had to turn away as I spoke.

"The last time I messed with pointy objects and worms, Jake barely escaped with a single hole in his nostril, and if you give me a frickin' _scalpel_, you'll be lucky to keep a single finger…"

But then I trailed off because Edward's thumb was running along my cheekbone.

"I hadn't noticed before, but your skin is flawless," he breathed, speaking in a low concentrated tone.

I still wasn't looking at him, but I was gripping onto the counter of the lab station to steady myself, "Uh, yes, my skin tends to behave, but it's also pasty pale. Uh, so what are you doing after school today?"

Edward's hand dropped, and for a second, I thought he might be embarrassed, but then he grinned and mimicked, "What am I doing after school today? The same thing I do everyday, Pinkie."

He paused for dramatic, and I smiled. "I'm going for a run," he finished.

"Are you actually going to run with the cross country team today?"

"Have to."

~ * ~

So I was standing in my grotto for the first time in more than a month. A month had passed, and now, I was a much changed Bella.

Strung out.

Stressed.

Awkward.

And in serious need of release.

My libido was coiled like a spring, but the spring was stuck.

Since the "closet incident," I had been unable to pick up my good friend, The Rabbit. It seemed wrong—tainted—like now that the secret was out, it could no longer be explored. And the only time I had tried to use it, I had seen Edward's face—and I didn't want to see Edward Cullen's perfect face anymore, because when I saw the angular jaw, the apple green jolly rancher eyes, and the elegant full lips—it just hurt. It hurt because he was untouchable. Edward would never touch me.

But at the waterfall, all was different, the world changed—the waterfall was my secret, and here in my secret place, all things were free and potent and untainted.

My back rounded along my preferred smooth slate of stone. My body leaned forward so that the line of water ran in a constant flow between my legs. I lay back, enjoying the tingling flow of the water from above, while cupping the warm water from the pool below and spilling it over my breasts and my neck and décolletage. The dripping lines flowed slow and sweet and silky, and the tension and pressure trickled away with the falling drops.

I lay there for twenty, thirty minutes, maybe even an hour, contentedly stretched on my rock, an oblivious, melted, and tingling lover.

But I still needed my release, so I lowered my hand. When my finger traveled down and beneath my bikini bottoms, my mouth snapped shut and I gritted my teeth, because even as I felt completely relaxed and warm above, the lower nexus of my body was slick and sensitive and ready.

And the touch stung.

So, I began to move my fingers beneath the think fabric, slowly up and down, and around in circles and back down again.

The movement created the waves and the waves created the heat. I gasped and moaned, and my head flung back, so that when I looked up I saw the water rushing down and the deep purple vines and fire red flowers dangling from the deep grey rocks, and everything was misty and beautiful and crystalline.

The waves continued, but they didn't build like they always had before, and my rubbing started to slow as I grew more frustrated—because now more than ever I was taut and rigid and needing the release.

So I gave up, and I imagined him. I imagined his lips sucking on mine. I envisaged his hands inching under the corners of my bikini. I dreamt of my hands running up and down his arms, his chest, his back, and our eyes locked in tandem.

And then, I felt the crash and the break.

And I moaned and swore as I said his name, because I was as pissed off as I was blissed out.

And it was all Edward fucking Cullen's fault.

~ * ~

Okay, and now I get to pimp out my other new story--Sin and Incivility. Yep, it's smutty as heck. It starts with a BellaxJames lemon, but really, it's a BellaxEdward heartbroken mess. So, check it out and show the love. And oh, yeah, there's a lot of citrus, so be forewarned.


	15. Squeaks Cheeks and Cake

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I own it not.

Randomness: Capricorn75 has posted a thread for N&W on Twilighted(dot)net, so if you'd like to show the love, you can go over to the AU-human forum and check it out. I'm going to post some random bits from this chapter--strangely enough I had to do some research--so hopefully you'll enjoy.

This is the longest chapter so far--and also my favorite. Next chapter is going to be all kinds of awesome...

* * *

Chapter 14:

Squeeks and Cheeks and Cheesecake

~ * ~

I kept going to the waterfall after school. Edward had cross-country everyday, too, so on the days that I helped Esme out, Edward and I would meet after our various pursuits—not that mine was school sanctioned or anything.

At the waterfall, I kept trying to avoid it, but Edward and the waterfall were becoming inextricably linked.

That made it a bit odd when I met up with him at his house.

Oh, hi, Edward. I just diddled my skittle to the vision of your hunky perfection in a geothermal pond. Now, let me chop this carrot…

Awkward. Awkward. Awkward.

I knew this had to stop.

So I tried things.

I stripped naked. Yep, skinny dipping Bella—who'd have thought?

No cigar. Creaking tree branches and rustling winds—I got way too paranoid.

I brought the Rabbit.

"Rabbit, waterfall. Waterfall, Rabbit."

Almost.

But apparently I wasn't a fan of threesomes.

I started getting irritable and sullen at school and work, snapping at Edward and talking to him less and less. I knew this was hardcore dumb girl behavior, but I really needed him to gain two hundred pounds and wear pleated pants and tell me I was a dumb bitch feminist or something equally asinine and barbarian so that I could truly get over him.

But instead he shoved a strawberry in my mouth and told me to "taste it."

He made me blush when he quizzed me on the reproductive system of a sea horse in Biology.

He ran across the parking lot half-naked, smooth and marble-like muscles on display in track shorts and a tank.

I was deeply considering whether or not I should bother Carlisle about some anti-anxiety medication or take up stoning with Jessica or simply throw myself at random hunky man flesh.

The random hunk thing unexpectedly exploded in my face.

It was Emmett Cullen's fault—well, mostly.

~ * ~

Rosalie and Alice showed up extra early one fine morning.

Said morning began with a lot of screaming.

I even threw my coffee at the wall.

Yes, it was that bad.

"Fuck—_no_!" I screamed.

"Bella, it's raining," Rosalie shrugged by way of explanation.

I rolled my eyes. "We live in Forks, and it's _always_ raining."

I held up the offending garment. "This is that shiny-ass, vinyl, _hooker_ stuff—I'm not wearing it."

Alice looked like she might slap me.

"Bella, patent leather. Patent leather, Bella," she gestured flippantly.

"It's shoe material. I'd wear that on my shoes—not on my _ass_."

"You really need to overcome these narrow-minded prejudices, Bella. Now wear it, or I'll actually do something hurtful."

I crossed my arms and starred at her in mocking, stubborn disbelief.

"I'll put you in head-to-toe pink boa feathers. I'll do it at school—and Jasper and Emmett will pin you, and Rose will help, too."

Rosalie nodded nonchalantly.

"That's fucking assault, Alice."

"And if anyone arrests me, you know Charlie will just let me go."

I let out a strangled, frustrated, defeated, and I-don't-even-have-my-coffee-to-comfort-me squeal.

They tackled and stripped me.

When they we were done, I contemplated flaying myself.

At least I was in black—even if I had stretchy suspenders attached to my skirt. Rose had a shiny red dress with a ridiculous number of zippers, and Alice was sporting skin-tight slick yellow pants with an excess of chains and straps. And yes, she had insistently pointed out how she was wearing _yellow_.

I thought we looked like dominatrix Power-Rangers.

"I squeak," I complained as I bent forward slightly and the material folded and creaked.

"I know! Hot, isn't it? It drives Jasper crazzzzzy…" Alice giggled.

"Well, I don't have a single person to drive crazy—so there."

"That won't be a problem today. In fact, you should have multiple…" Rose trailed off, grinning deviously.

I frowned at both of them.

~ * ~

I was running late when I pulled my truck into the parking lot. Since I had missed my early morning caffeine hit, I had made a detour to acquire a double-espresso from the local floofy coffee shop while Alice and Rose drove on ahead in the M3. I had just finished chugging down the last drop, when Edward ran up to my door.

_All pristine, toothsome, and goddamn gorgeous._

I opened my door, but I didn't exactly get a chance to say, "hello."

"Give me your hand. We don't have much time," Edward ordered. He was staring at me with an unusual amount of ferocity—straight into my eyes.

"What? Do we have a Biology exam that no one told me about?"

I slid out, my skirt squeaking against the edge of the seat. Edward jerked away from me and ignoring my previous question asked, "What the hell did my madcap kinswomen dress you in?"

"Apparently, it's called patent leather."

"There are buckles…" he murmured under his breath, so low I almost didn't hear, and then he took my hand and pulled me forward but kept his gaze turned away from me. He spoke in the Edward lecturing voice. "You know, the amount of chemicals involved in the creation of that material is depraved to say the least. What's the point of using the skin of a cow, if you're going to make it shimmer in the dark?"

"They threatened me with pink boa insanity—I'm just the victim here. As far as fashion goes, I don't think your sisters keep with the whole Bambi charade, do they?"

He didn't answer me.

We were at the entrance to Building A, where my English class was held. Stationed at the door were two rather large football players. Connor, I knew and Matt—maybe, was that the other one? I was pretty sure that Matt was in PE with Mike and me.

Edward squeezed my hand really tightly.

"Connor—Matt—how are you guys?" Edward greeted stiffly.

The bulky one with hazel eyes—Matt—answered first, "Fine."

Connor spoke up, "So… Bella, I was wondering if you wanted to—"

"—she doesn't want to," Edward snapped.

"Dude, are _you_ taking her?"

Edward glared at him.

"Silence doesn't mean anything, Cullen, so Bella—"

"—_fuck off,_ Connor," Edward snarled.

I gaped at his expression. I'd never seen Edward look so menacing, let alone ever seen him be _mean_—he looked ready to take on both of the largish jocks in front of him and rip them some new ones—and I didn't doubt in that second that he'd emerge the victor… The two guys instinctually backed away from Edward's murderous gaze. Edward opened the door and not letting go of my hand, shoved passed the two guys.

Edward wasn't an aggressive person. He was sweet and kind and cordial. A gentleman.

But he had just made those two beef heads cower in the corner.

I was all kinds of turned on.

Edward stormed down the hallway with me squeaking along behind him. He marched stick-straight and obviously tense. He was speeding ahead at a non-Bella pace.

Non-Bella pace is never a good idea, especially when my other hand was focused on keeping my inflexible skirt from riding up.

I tripped, but my hand was still locked in his, so I fell forward, and Edward raised his arm up to try and brace me, but this just caused me to swing on my heel so that I was going to fall on the floor anyway.

But Edward's other hand caught me.

He caught my upper thigh, and then because of the volition of my fall—it slid upward. Underneath my skirt.

I felt his hand on my bare bottom.

Alice and Rosalie had issues with normal underwear. Only thongs were acceptable. They didn't appear to register that plasticky material made one's ass sweat all day.

So, there we were in the hallway—me dipped over, as if in dramatic Tango pose, and his hand tightly groping my left cheek.

I heard a peel of laughter.

Edward pulled me up and set me on my feet. His face was bright red—as I'm sure that mine was, too.

Alice was bracing herself against her locker to support herself as she laughed. "So Edward, you're already dancing with Bella?" Another roll of laughter.

I glowered at her. First off, I still had no clue what was going on. Second, she was the reason that the Edward's sex fingers were no longer touching me.

"So, did you ask her?" The question was directed at Edward.

"Go away, Alice."

"Humph, you are being so stubborn," she pouted, and then she walked up to me and leaned against me, putting her head on my shoulder. "It's okay, Bella is going to have lots of options," she announced to Edward.

Edward glared at her.

"Aren't you, Bella?" She smiled angelically at me, but her eyes held a hint of a devilish twinkle

Alice yanked my suspender strap out, and then let it snap back.

My boob _stung_.

And then I realized I was groping myself in the Forks high school hallway, and Alice had fallen to the floor and was shaking with laughter while Edward marched off in the opposite direction.

I snarled at her. She kept laughing.

"What is going on?!" I demanded.

"Oh, just the dance is coming up," she brightly informed me.

"What dance?"

"What dance?" she repeated back to me, frustration and disbelief coating her tone. "_Bella_! Everyone has been talking about it for _weeks._ Homecoming. Homecoming is in two short weeks."

"Oh," I shrugged. "I'm not going. Dancing and I don't mix. I hate dancing, and my brain kindly filters out such unpleasant things."

"Wrong, Bella. You are going."

"No—I'm not. I hate dancing. I fall."

"Hmmm… it seemed like you were enjoying your little twirl and dip with my brother just a minute ago."

I flushed and gritted my jaw, "I tripped."

"I'm sure that was all," she nodded her head at me with exaggerated earnestness.

"So, what's up with Edward flipping out?" I asked coolly.

She giggled. "I think he likes your suspenders."

I pursed my lips. "He was waiting for me when I pulled up in the parking lot this morning—he hadn't seen my slut clothes yet."

Alice hopped and her pants squeaked and then she grabbed both of my hands, grasping them within hers. "So did he ask you anything?"

"Uh, not really. He complained about leather being evil, and then yelled at Connor and Matt when they tried to talk to me."

Alice's already big eyes seemed to pop out of her face, and she gave a smug, tinkling little cackle, twiddling her fingers together maniacally. Alice cackling was never good. It meant some form of torture—fashionista or otherwise.

"You're plotting. Stop plotting," I demanded.

"Oh, don't worry about it, Bella—all that is foreseen will come to pass."

The little sprite winked at me.

~ * ~

English was all kinds of fucked up shit.

We'd been assigned to bring in our own poems. I had brought in a favorite by Gwendolyn Brooks. I knew that Alice had something from T.S. Eliot.

Class was going normally—with Alice talking my ear off, when Eric, a long, skinny kid with bad acne, took the poetry pulpit.

He turned and walked across the classroom and looked straight down at me.

"Roses are red. Violets are blue. Homecoming is near, and I'm sad without you."

The entire class started snickering. I was beet-faced.

Eric continued, seeming to notice none of this, or simply not caring. "Roses are red. Violets are blue. I'll save my last dance only to dance with you," the dude smiled hugely at the class—some of the guys gave him a thumbs-up, like he'd just done something to be proud of…

I had my head ducked down, my hair hanging forward, and my hand clutching my brow.

But it wasn't over.

Another guy—Brett—stood up—and read "Stella's Birthday" by Jonathan Swift, which I'd always considered funny. The poem is from a man comparing his now old, fat, and misshapen wife to her former sexy young self.

But Brett replaced all of the "Stellas" with "Bellas," so once again I found myself ducking my head and trying to hide my face—even as I stifled the occasional smirk, because I'm pretty sure he didn't have a clue as to what the poem was about—he was reading it as a love poem, which it was. It was just an insulting, satirical sort of love poem.

I kept looking over to Alice—for comfort—for some sort of explanation.

But Alice's face didn't seem to hold either emotion. In fact, Alice had a calculating, analytical expression on her face.

And when Brett finished up, she raised an eyebrow at him, and he grinned back at her, before flashing me a huge smile.

I turned on Alice and glared at her wide-eyed.

She peered innocently back at me.

By the end of class, I had endured four painful poems directed at my person.

And when the bell rang, Alice and I had four guys standing around our desks, staring at me expectantly, like this whole fiasco was some sort of fun game.

"Here. Write down your numbers—here," Alice directed, standing up and shoving loose leaf at the four of them. "Bella's not going to make any decisions now, so you'll have to wait for a text."

It had all become clear.

Mini bitch was pimping me out.

I turned on her and gave her my death glare.

Alice gave me her favorite cheeky smile.

I considered strangling her.

The guys were not immune to the escalation in female tension, so they sort of threw the papers into Alice's hands and fled the room.

"See, Rose said you'd have the attention of multiple men, tod—"

I cut her off. "What the hell, Alice? What did you and Rose do?!"

She beamed up at me. "Rose and I didn't do anything."

My concentration was broken by Edward marching into the classroom. He didn't have class in this building, and he didn't even have his next class in the same building that I did, so there was no reason for him to be here. I eyed him curiously.

"Edward, why are you here?" I asked.

"I'm walking you to your next class," he explained, not really looking at me.

"Oh, that's cool, I guess—but your next class is no where near mine."

He turned to look me in the eyes, but then he snapped, "Alice, stop that."

I felt a snap, and saw Alice backing away from me, fake innocence on her face.

"What?" she asked.

Edward walked up me and brushing aside my hair, pulled four slips of paper from under my suspenders strap.

"What are these?" he gasped, staring down at the numbers scrawled on the torn loose leaf.

"Bella had a few poems read to her today in class," Alice happily explained.

I tried to say something, but the feeling of Edward pulling on the strap was still reeking havoc on my physical and mental state.

Edward took a long breath and stared down at his sister.

She stared back, raising a defiant eyebrow.

"Come on, Bella," Edward urged, grasping my hand tightly and pulling me out of the classroom.

He crumpled the strips of loose leaf into a ball and chucked them into the trashcan on the way out the door.

~ * ~

I had to shove Edward out of my trig class.

He only left when there were thirty seconds until the bell rang. He was going to be late to his next class, but not as late as I would have been. He was lucky he could run quickly.

"Overbearing Edward" began as soon as we entered the room, and Mike Newton began giving Edward these ridiculous grins and ribbing him with asides that I couldn't hear. I didn't know what Mike was saying, but Edward totally let it get to him.

After Edward left, Mike sat on the edge of my desk.

On the other side of me, Jessica smacked down her books and notebook with unnecessary force before glaring at Mike and me. Mike ignored her, but I attempted to give her an apologetic look. She had to know that no one could really want this sort of attention.

Mike continued on as if the world wasn't falling to pieces. "So, Bella, _like_ your outfit, and where am I at on your list? Are you going to let me take you?"

I sort of exploded. "I have no idea what is going on. What the hell is this list? And why the hell won't people leave me alone about homecoming?"

Mike laughed and grinned at me. "You seriously don't know?"

I shook my head

"Have you noticed which guys have been asking you to the dance?"

I shook my head again.

The bell rang but the teacher hadn't made it to the classroom yet.

"They're all varsity football players," Jessica spat from my side, glaring straight ahead and not looking at either Mike or me.

I felt the heat rise up in my chest, and I turned my enraged face on Mike.

Two words pounded in my head.

I practically spit them into Mike's face, "Emmett Cullen."

Mike nodded, but he looked a little afraid.

"What did he do?"

"He sort of created a challenge…?"

"Go. On."

"Eh, so you know how there's an MVP each year, most-valuable-player? Well, Emmett decided to create a Most Valuable Playa award this year—and well the contest was sort of getting you to go to homecoming with…"

My teeth clenched. My breath came out in hissed pants. I literally growled, gripping the edge of my desk. Everything suddenly made sense. Rose and Alice were in on it—thus the outfits. Edward knew, too, that's why he was walking me like he was my bodyguard in between classes.

Mike shrunk down in his seat in response to my reaction.

I stared fixedly at the classroom door. Emmett had history this hour. If I grabbed a lead pipe from the janitor's closet, I could probably get in at least two swipes before anyone could stop me.

Mike hesitantly touched my hand. "It's okay, Bella. Calm down."

I took long, deep breaths, and the red left my vision. Our teacher came in and started in on a lecture on vectors, but then my mind was focused entirely on the various measures of medieval torture that I could use to exact pain from Emmett.

~ * ~

After class, I tore down the hallway, marching in a beeline for Emmett's history class. Mike Newton did not even dare to try and accompany me.

I had just turned a corner, when two arms grabbed my waist and yanked me backward and into darkness. In front of me, the door pulled shut.

Janitor's closet.

"Who? What the fuck?" I cursed as I felt hands on my waist.

"Bella, it's your homecoming date, right here."

Fucking Tyler Crowley.

He tried to kiss me, but I pushed his face away. I think I hit his nose a little harder than necessary, but I couldn't really see.

"Stop it, Tyler!"

"Aw, come on, Bella! How could you not want this?" And he pulled my hand down so that it touched the lump in his jeans.

First of all—not impressive.

Second—_ew_.

Third—I kicked him in the shin.

There was a gasp and a groan, and Tyler slid to the floor, knocking a spray bottle off a shelf so that it clunked his head on the way down.

I threw open the door and marched down the hallway.

Edward was immediately by my side.

"What happened, Bella?" he asked, looking at me askance.

"I'm going to butcher your brother."

"Yeah, well, he deserves it, but still—why is your hair a mess?"

"Because Tyler yanked me into the janitor's closet."

Edward stopped walking and stared back down the hall, jaw clenched.

"Oh, please, Edward—I already kicked him. You don't have to go all protective friend on me."

He turned back to me and looked at me softly.

"I am your friend, you know."

Oh, how very well I know you're my _friend_.

"I know."

"You really don't want to go to the dance, do you?"

"If you haven't noticed, I sort of can't walk in a straight line. Naturally, dancing isn't my shtick."

"Well, it's all in the leading."

I snorted. "Sure, it is." Visions of my falling dramatically on my ass in front of the entire school danced through my head. "You don't want to go either, do you?"

"Eh, no, not exactly..." he trailed off.

Thought so.

"We could both 'not go' together and just hang out—make some pizza, or something."

_Aw_, it would be just like normal with me dreaming about performing scandalous acts on your person, and you just sitting there looking pretty and talking about the latest election scandal.

Eh, I was in dumb girl mode—again.

_Logical thoughts, Bella._

I put on an amused faced and scoffed at him, "Like your sisters would allow that. Alice would come and kidnap me, and Charlie would assist her with tying the ropes."

"Don't worry about it, Bella. I'll handle them."

We had reached my classroom, and we were standing out front.

"See you at lunch?" he asked.

I nodded. "Bring a smashed glass bottle or a lead pipe per your preference."

Normally Edward would have laughed at this—I mean—I thought it was kinda funny, but he just gave me a half-smile and walked away.

~ * ~

When lunchtime finally rolled around, I marched to the lunchroom with sinister intent.

Alice and Rosalie were already at the lunch table, sitting on the top, watching me expectantly, while peeling through a bowl of edamame like it was popcorn at the baseball game. Emmett came into the lunchroom as his usual brazen, booming self, walking in with Jasper and Connor. I had no doubt they were discussing one topic—me.

I stalked around a table and came up behind them. Angela and Ben sat at the table to my side. Angela had a rather creamy looking piece of cafeteria cheesecake.

I paused at her side. "Can I buy you another one?"

She gave me a huge grin.

I didn't wait for a further invitation.

I scooped up the plate and marched forward.

Rosalie and Alice looked on with eager, rapt attention.

I heard Emmett ask them in front of me, "Why the big smile, ladies?"

I spoke aloud, "Why would they be smiling, Emmett?"

Emmett turned.

I smashed the cake in his face.

Collective laughter was heard in the cafeteria.

Emmett was laughing, too, while licking the cheesecake off around his mouth.

Apparently, he hadn't really gotten the point.

So, I went for his knee.

It was a light sort of kick, because he lunged back at the last second.

"Hey, Bella, ouch! I need that leg!"

I only stopped when I felt Edward's hands on my back.

"If you'd like, Bella, I could simply beat him after school."

Emmett snorted. "Like you could take me."

"You have yet to win a match against me."

"You cheat, and besides, what's the big deal, anyway, bro? Haven't you asked her?"

Edward blanched and then muttered, "Bella doesn't want to go."

"Are we talking about Homecoming—again?"

I must have looked a little mad-crazy, because Emmett took an extra two steps back until he was backed up against Rosalie and then fearfully clutching on to her. I shook my head and sat myself down in my usual seat, still glaring at Emmett.

Alice sat down next to me. "But Bella you have to go to the dance," she whined.

"Eh, like hell, I don't."

"Leave her alone," Edward snapped at Alice.

"Bella, you're going to the dance—just pick someone," Rosalie muttered.

Hah, pick someone, because the available choices were so wonderful. And the only option that I did want, didn't want anything to go—let alone go with me.

"Bella, I'm sure there's someone you'd want to go with…" Alice sang, trailing off with a sort of expectant undertone to her voice.

"Eh, not so much. I told you I don't dance."

"Pick someone, or we'll do it for you," Alice insisted.

"Who the hell am I supposed to ask?"

Alice stared at me like I was an idiot, and then she pointed less than circumspectly towards her brother.

I rolled my eyes. "Edward does not want to go to the dance with me."

Alice opened her mouth like she going to say something, but I stopped her.

"Fine. I'll ask Jake. Deal done. We can even skip out after two minutes and go go-carting or eat pizza or do something that actually consists of fun."

"Bella, you're not going with Jake." This time it was Edward speaking. He looked pissed.

I was totally taken off guard. I snapped back indignantly, "Why the hell shouldn't I?"

"You shouldn't. He's a freshman, Bella," he mumbled back.

"Oh, I'm so very sorry that my friend doesn't meet your high standards," I hissed. "Where do you get off telling me what to do?"

"I'm not telling you what to do."

"You're telling me what I can't do—and that's just as bad."

"Jake has a crush on you—you shouldn't lead him on like that."

"I shouldn't lead him on? What the hell are you talking about? Jake is like my best friend."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't be friends with him."

I just stared, open-mouthed and furious

Edward looked down, but his jaw was still set.

The rest of the table was dead silent.

I stood up, left the table, and marched out the cafeteria.

None of the Cullens dared to follow me.

~ * ~


	16. They All Fall Down

Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

Author's Note: Happy New Year! Here's your present. I had to rewrite a portion of it because I drank too much champagne--not a brilliant idea when you have laryngitis--but it wasn't like I could _talk_ to anyone either. Long story short, I woke up on my couch thinking it would somehow be a good idea to ignore my wino friends and work on my story, but this resulted in my laptop being powered off by my slighted boyfriend, and I had to spent a good portion of today working on it.

Okay, so now _this_ chapter is my favorite. It's the goddamn reason I wrote this story (although there is still much to come).

* * *

~ * ~

Chapter 15:

In Which They All Fall Down

~ * ~

I marched straight out to the parking lot and pulled myself into my truck.

I sat there. I sat there for at least ten minutes and stared at nothing.

I was pissed—yes, I was very pissed.

But there was something more, too.

I hadn't had grand expectations when I arrived in Forks. I would have been happy enough to merely walk along unnoticed. That alone would have been a godsend after high school in Phoenix, but then it was like Fate had smiled on me, and I'd met the Cullens—funny, smart, beautiful, and kind (if we discount dress code issues)—and they'd accepted me as their friend. It had all seemed too good to be true.

And then there was Edward.

I didn't understand how he could have been so cruel about Jacob. Jake was nice and kind to everyone. He was funny and sweet, and he's the one who'd made the last few summers in Forks not only bearable—but something I looked forward to. Jake, besides Renee, had been my rock for the past two years, whether or not he really knew it.

And Edward had been such an ass.

I started crying—and that really pissed me off, because no there was no excuse for me to be blubbering over anything that dumb-ass Edward could say—even if he was brilliant and gorgeous and the star of every last single one of my fantasies.

Fuck me, I loved Edward.

Well, maybe.

Or maybe I was in love with an idea. I'd thought I'd understood him.

More angry tears.

I couldn't drive home.

Charlie might be there.

I could not go back inside—I had Biology, and Edward would be there.

I thought about hunting down Jacob at La Push—but he would still be in school. And then there was the whole thing about the Cullen boys insisting that Jacob had a crush on me—which he most certainly did _not_. And then there was the fact that I didn't really want to explain to Jake how Edward Cullen thought Jake wasn't good enough to go to the dance with me. Jacob didn't need to hear any of that.

So I was at a loss. I felt lonely and imprisoned.

But then I thought of the one place…

I kicked my truck into gear. I pulled out of the parking lot and I drove to the waterfall.

~ * ~

When I arrived by the river, something had changed. Something was definitely different. I looked about and realized that the sun had come out. Of the two days a year that the sun decided to show her face in forks, it had to be this one.

Just frickin' typical.

I reached behind my seat and pulled out my "waterfall bag," retrieving my bikini, towel, and sure-footed hiking shoes. I quickly changed and marched away from my truck.

I had to admit, there were some days I enjoyed this walk almost as much as I enjoyed my time at the grotto.

And this, definitely, was one of those days.

I had grown to love my walk—the forest, the green. The forest in Forks knew every shade of green: lime, emerald, sea foam, aqua, wintergreen, Kelly, and so on. Ferns dominated the forest floor, along with the moss-covered old corpses of fallen trees. It was a bit primeval in the way that there were no flowers—just the verdant explosion of bushes, shrubs, hanging vines, velvet moss, and trees.

Green, green, and more green.

The green only ended at the three mangled old birches at the top of the incline. I liked to imagine them to be the three midnight hags from Macbeth—cursing and enchanting the forest below with their wicked sorcery.

"Double, double toil and trouble," I greeted them.

Unsurprisingly, they remained close-lipped.

So on past them I went until I emerged into the meadow—or "the meadow of heaven" as I like to refer to it. Now, if I hadn't had found my grotto and waterfall, I think I could have passed my days in this meadow. It was as if the meadow had jealously pulled every last wildflower from the surrounding forests and hoarded them in her center to better display the dazzling bouquet.

But I had my waterfall, so I hiked onward.

When I reached the grotto, I carefully made my way down the crevice. Anger and sadness did not justify recklessness. I knew Charlie would never say anything—but I don't think his healthcare insurance covered all of those medical bills—so I needed to be careful. Be good and keep in budget for the year.

I pulled off my drawstring pants (squeaky skirt and suspenders had been callously abandoned in the truck) and my cotton top, and lowered myself off of the rock ledge and into the warm pool below.

Steamy, warm, and magical.

I made my way around the pool, just walking, clearing my head, examining the subtle changes in my secret sanctuary. A new round of flowers had burst into bloom on the ledge to the right of the falls. Very pretty. But I also noticed they weren't as brilliant as the others before them. They were faded slightly. I sighed. Summer had faded away and winter was on the march, and soon, it would be too cold to come here.

And then I would truly be alone.

Ugh, I was such being such a pathetic sinkhole of depression.

I started swimming in circles around the pool. I swam thoughtlessly. I focused on the warmth and the scents of the hard minerals combined with the perfume of the forest and the sweet envelopment of the mist and the water.

I looked up at the sky at some point. The sun was much lower in the sky.

I huffed.

For once, the grotto wasn't helping. Not really, if I was honest with myself.

Because I kept thinking about him.

Just as I had for the last few weeks at the waterfall.

Bah.

Maybe I should permanently leave society and take to the forest, be a real sort of nymph—since Edward wasn't interested. I could be a water nymph! I think they were Naiads. I was pretty sure the Dryads were Pan's forest bunnies of something like that.

I snorted at my own ridiculousness.

And then I spied him.

Sitting on a rock.

My frog! The mustard-colored gizzard section below his wide lips ballooned in and out as he held court on the rock.

"Hello, fair sir," I greeted.

Silence.

"Not even a rib-bit?" I begged.

Not even a rib-bit.

"Would you like a crown?"

Sir Frog hopped onto a farther rock.

"I guess the crown is out then."

"_Rib-Bit!"_

"Right. No crown."

Silence. I really couldn't even get on with the basest of creatures.

"I'm sorry we dissected one of your species in Biology last week. Wasn't really my idea, though. I assure you."

Glassy orbs bulged out at me.

"In fact, I made a vegetarian do almost all of the evil stuff." I smirked, not waiting to gauge Sir Frog's reaction. "I thought the irony was sort of funny."

Sir Frog was apparently not amused.

"I really don't understand him—the vegetarian, I mean. I understood the frog okay. I got an A+ on my frog diagram, but back to the vegetarian, who knows? Maybe he was acting out of sorts today. Everyone has a bad day now and then—even perfect people. Maybe I should just yell at him for a few hours and make him apologize in foolish ways."

"_Rib-Bit."_

"Yes, you're right. I just wish I knew what the heck he was thinking."

"_Rib-Bit."_

"If I kissed you, you wouldn't turn into a prince and tell me, would you?"

No response.

"I'm glad we got that sorted out, and I'm glad it was a nice honest exchange. No bullshit. No run-arounds."

"_Rib-Bit."_

"Well, since I've forgiven him, there's no reason to block him out of the waterfall world either, is there?"

"_Rib-Bit."_

"Now may I have some privacy please?"

Bulgy-eyed silence.

I waved my hand in front of him.

"Now, be gone with thee, Sir Frog. Bella, here, needs to flick her bean."

I smiled to myself as he hopped away.

_Such a nice, little frog._

So I made my way over to the waterfall.

I needed to relax, thus I began by standing with my back to the curtain of water. I dropped my head and let the water catch my hair, combing and brushing my hair in one long gentle stroke. I raised my arms like vertical planks and the water swooshed down them and licked its way down my sides, causing the first tremor of shakes to pass through me.

I grabbed onto a low hanging vine from above and steadied myself as the water flowed down the rest of my body, down my brow, off the tip of my nose, in a loop around my neck, and under the thin layer of my bikini.

My breathing had accelerated and the mist around me seemed to thicken.

Even though I was surrounded by currents, flows, drizzles, and drops, I was keenly aware of the other sort of liquid that was pooling in between my legs.

Holding even more tightly to the vine, I put my other hand between my legs.

An unexpectedly loud "fuck" flew from my lips.

And then I heard it.

A crack, followed by the sound of splintering wood.

And a splash.

And even though my vision was clouded by the mist and the hormones kicking through my brain, I instantly recognized and attacked the figure who now joined me in the pool.

Soaked, in running shorts and a regular old t-shirt, my very own bronze-haired god was standing in the center, looking at me in horror as I threw myself at him.

"You no good, peeping Tom!" I screamed at him, trying to punch him in the stomach.

He caught my hand and pulled me against his chest, but I used my other hand to repetitively hit his side.

I thought he'd try to stop me—pin me with his other hand—but he didn't.

His other hand grabbed between my legs.

My head shot up, and I stared at him in wide eyed horror.

I don't know what I expected to see.

But I understood what I did see.

Desire. Lust. Want.

"Edward, what the…"

But then I gasped and trailed off because Edward's hand had just moved, dragging his fingers up and down the think fabric between my legs. The effect on my body was instantaneous.

I moaned.

An embarrassingly loud, wanton moan.

"Bella," he gasped into my ear, "Bella, I want to finish what you started."

My head was buried in the crook of his soft and sinuous neck, and I couldn't really move, but I tried to protest, because in the very, very, very back of my almost forgotten brain there was the thought that several steps had just been skipped in some sort of social ritual.

"I can do it myself," I rasped as his hand continued to move back and forth and my fingers dug into his back.

"It's better if _my_ fingers are on your pussy. I know. You say my name." He pushed the fabric aside and put a finger directly against the sensitive lips.

I gasped again.

"Edward…"

"That's right, Bella. Say my name." He shoved a finger into the hole.

"_Fuck_. I mean fuck no. I'll go home. I have a detachable showerhead."

"I've been in your bathroom. You don't have a detachable showerhead." He began to move his finger more furiously, while his thumb pressed on the upper spot.

"Well," I groaned into his shoulder. "A girl can dream…"

"Dream of me," he whispered into my ear, and he then withdrew his fingers from inside.

I gasped, looking up for the first time.

But then he yanked down my bikini bottoms and his entire hand and every single last finger were working over my girly spots.

I squeaked and then returned to moaning and biting softly along his shoulder.

Such a pretty shoulder.

And I so very much liked biting it.

Edward, all the meanwhile, kept whispering unspeakables into my ear.

He liked the p-word.

"Bella, you have a beautiful fucking pussy."

"Bella, you have no idea how many times I've wanted to finger-fuck your pussy in Biology or at lunch or when we're working."

"And when I caught you today, and my hand slid up your skirt, all I wanted to do was continue to slide it in between your legs and into your pretty, pink and aching pussy."

He said other things, too.

Nice things.

But it was saying the p-word—_pussy_—that caused the flood gates to open each time.

So needless to say, in no time at all, I was clenching my body tightly against him, sucking on his neck, and moaning his name—no scratch that—_screaming_ his name.

One long: _Edwaaaaaaaaaaard_.

And then at the finale, a quietly breathed little "oh, fuck."

~ * ~

I started to take in my surroundings. I realized I was pressed up against one of the smoother rocks, and I realized that I couldn't feel most of my body, so I was a little surprised when I looked down and saw that Edward was licking and sucking on my body, currently focused on nipping my hardened nipple through the fabric of my bikini triangle.

I was too tingly-numb to feel it, but it looked very pretty.

But then he looked up at me, and he smiled an adorable, dazzling, even boyish smile.

I pursed my lips, unable to hide a smirk. "You have talented fingers."

"I play the piano." He ran his finger underneath my jaw.

I closed my eyes at the sensation. "I've never heard you play, you know."

"I can take you home and play for you now."

"I'm still mad at you," I muttered weakly.

"I'm sorry. I was jealous."

"About Jake?" I asked.

"Yes."

"You spied on me," I accused.

"You're fucking beautiful," he said, and his hands trailed down the side of my waist as he stared into my eyes.

"I thought you were a gentleman," I responded, my voice barely a whisper.

He grinned mischievously. "You bring out the cave man in me."

I reached under his chin to pull his lips towards mine, but he caught my hand and then my butt and lifted me onto his back.

I pouted.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm taking us to your truck."

"I can walk."

"I'd prefer it if you'd ride me."

The thought of "riding Edward" was a little too much for me, so I resorted to clinging to his back all the more tightly as he carried us to my truck.

~ * ~

You better review, or you'll be cursed for the new year~!

(Okay, not really... )

~ * ~


	17. Flamingos and Edward Out

Disclaimer: Twilight ain't mine. I just butcher it for fun.

Author's Note:

Thank you for reviews from the last chapter! I would comment on them, but it seemed to mostly be a lot of women fanning themselves...

So, this chapter is one big, long parody of various parts of the dialogue in the meadow and post-meadow chapters of Twilight with my own cauldron of zany puerility bubbled in for extra measure.

Not that it ends that way...

This chap is a bit shorter, but it makes sense this way. Trust me. That and I'm posting fast, so love me. _Shutting up now._

* * *

~ * ~

Chapter 16:

In Which a Flamingo is Avenged and Edward is Outed

~ * ~

When we reached my truck, he opened the door and set me in on the passenger side seat. He let his hand trail along my knee as he began stepping back.

I had to bite my lip as my eyes closed, because the sensation was making me lightheaded.

But then he leaned down and kissed the inner part of my thigh.

A moan escaped as I dug my nails into the seat cushion.

Edward chuckled before taking a step back. He closed the door and walked around to the other side of the truck, sliding into the driver's seat.

"And what exactly do you think you're doing?" I inquired.

"Driving," he answered. He snatched the keys from out of my pants pocket on the seat between us and started the car.

The roar made me jump. Geez, I was still woozy.

"No. Not a chance. Edward, it's my truck."

"You're not fit to drive right now."

"Bullshit."

"Friends don't let friends drive drunk," he quoted with a chuckle.

"Drunk?" I objected.

"Well, not exactly, but I'd like to think you're on a high."

"Aren't we cocky?" I snorted. "Just because you have talented fingers and you're all kinds of pretty doesn't mean you'll always get your way." I reached over to open my door, but Edward stopped me.

He stopped me by pushing aside my towel and shoving his talented fingers between my legs.

"Gah…" was all I managed to get out in verbal response.

My hand reached out to stop him, but instead I ended up stroking the veins trailing up his arm, as his hand stroked me.

"Bella, it's too bad this old truck is a manual, because if it was an automatic I'd have the free hand to shift you the entire way home."

"Eh, fuck," I rasped. "Okay, you win, just drive," I groaned, batting his hand away.

He laughed, and he shifted the car into gear, and then he pulled my hand back over to his arm. "And bring your arm back," he insisted.

"Okay…" I surprised myself by how shyly I wrapped my arm around his.

"That's better," he murmured and continued to drive.

We sat in silence for a few minutes.

Sexually-charged silence.

I was the first one to break it. "At the waterfall, you said you knew that I had said your name."

"Hmmm?" He sounded as if I had pulled him from some other train of thought.

"You've watched me before," I concluded.

Edward remained mute.

"You _spied_ on me," I accused, but somehow I couldn't infuse my voice with the proper outrage.

He was unrepentant. "The grotto was a convenient stop on my run."

I rolled my eyes. The grotto was in the middle of fucking nowhere.

"How often?"

He shrugged.

I poked his arm. "How often did you come to the grotto?"

"I run every day except Sunday."

I gazed at him wide-eyed. "Why?"

"I told you." He spoke matter-of-factly. "You're fucking beautiful." He smiled at me.

_Melty, melty Bella._

"Also, you make nice noises."

_Ooooo-kay, back to irritated Bella_.

I pulled my hand from his arm, smacked it, and wrapped my arms tightly around myself, huffing slightly.

He laughed.

More sexually charged silence. At some point I sort of gave up and let myself ogle him. I just looked him over, brazenly analyzing every available visible detail.

"Liking what you see?" he asked after a few minutes. He was smirking.

"Shut up," I muttered while I analyzed the way his right butt cheek clenched when he had to push the gas pedal.

"Bella, the whole leering at me thing is a bit distracting actually."

I raised a lone finger at him, not removing my gaze from his ass. "You don't get to talk. You spied on me—in my _intimate state_—for weeks, and just so you know, I still haven't forgiven you for that."

"Don't worry I'll do my penance." The chump wiggled his eyebrows.

"Yes, like I said—you are unbelievably cocky."

So Edward continued driving, and I continued my ogling.

After a while, I also found it impossible to stop myself from stretching out my whole hand to trace the contours of his neck with my fingertips.

"Do you mind?" I asked.

"No," Edward said, tensing slightly but not taking his eyes off the road. "You can't imagine how that feels."

"Hmmmm," I hummed. "Well, as long as you keep your focus on the road…"

As time passed, I became progressively bolder. I'd traced his entire neck, including the little pocket in the ligaments at the base. I'd outlined his ear, his jaw, and the length of his arm. I could hear the uptake in his breathing and that only encouraged me. My fingers started to crawl down his side, but he flinched.

"That tickles—and I'm driving."

"Fine," I answered, but I put my hand on his upper thigh.

That lasted for about a minute, but then I couldn't help myself so I squeezed.

Edward's leg felt _nice_.

But the truck swerved.

The truck swerved and took out a small lawn gnome statue that was unfortunately too close to the curb.

Edward barely managed to get the truck under control.

"Bella!"

"Oops."

"You're going to get us _killed._"

"I think we murdered the gnome."

"Well, the gnome was evil."

"You don't know that."

"I drive past that gnome every day. I have no doubt that he was the one that bumped off the flamingo two yards over."

"I disagree. I saw the flamingo—the one with those sneaky black shades—that flamingo flew the coop on home to Rio."

"But the gnome had the axe."

My hand started to creep back towards his leg. "But there were no feathers found… I murmured, focusing on the nearing proximity of my hand to his thigh.

"Restraint, Bella," Edward groaned, batting my hand away.

So I had to keep my hands to myself.

For like a whole hour.

Okay, more like six minutes.

Seemed like sixty.

And when we pulled into the long drive at the Cullen's, I didn't wait a second. I crawled into Edward's lap.

"Bella," Edward gasped, looking at me in shock.

I kissed him.

My lips came up to his, and they met his warm, soft lips.

I don't know what I expected, but I knew what I got.

My lips bent and shaped around his, but his…

Firm, cold, resistant.

Like kissing a marble statue.

I pulled away, my mouth hanging open.

Edward's eyes were wide and expressed something else too… fear, shock?

"What was that?" I rasped, hurt creeping into my tone.

"I…" he trailed off and said nothing.

I jabbed him in the arm, staring at him

"I thought Alice told you…"

I stared at him intently before I finally spoke. "Alice told me you had a problem with _physical expression_. Considering that during the past hour you managed to stick your fingers up and into my _vagina_, forgive me for thinking that you'd gotten over that little phobia."

"No, Bella, it's not that."

"It's not what?"

"It's not touching you. I _love_ touching you."

I pursed my lips. "Well, why didn't you kiss me back?"

"Umm… don't like kissing?"

I gaped at him. "You don't like kissing." I dumbly repeated his words back to him.

"Not really…"

He tried to look away, but I grabbed his chin.

"Have you ever actually kissed anyone before?"

"They have kissed me."

"They attacked you."

"It was gross."

I rolled my eyes, and then looked away from him for the first time. "Thanks, Edward. You just ruined my first experience of ever kissing someone."

"You've never been kissed?" His eyes popped wider.

"I didn't say that."

He looked confused.

"Yes, for your information, I had someone throw me up against a locker once upon a time, too, but that never killed my desire to one day have a boyfriend who would kiss me properly."

"Who threw you up against the locker?" he croaked, followed immediately by "You want me to be your boyfriend?" spoken with extreme tenderness.

My head spun. These emotions were confusing.

"Edward, you cannot be my boyfriend if you refuse to kiss me."

"But I am your boyfriend," he whined.

I had to close my eyes to focus. "Not if you don't kiss me."

He went into Edward lecturing mode.

"Kissing is gross, Bella. Think about it. We're talking saliva and mucous membranes. Think about the hundreds or even millions of bacteria that migrate from one mouth to another during a kiss, and we haven't even gotten to the _diseases_: meningitis, herpes, mono, colds. Also, it is slobbery and _wet_," he described with evident distaste.

"Edward," I breathed, staring at him in fury.

"First of all, I'll just make myself clear: I. Want. To. Taste. Your. Spit." I spat out.

Edward blinked.

"Yeah, that's right. I'm _gross_ like that. Second, if you share your tea with me at lunch—like you always do—you've already caught most of my germs."

Edward opened his mouth like he was going to speak, but I cut him off. "Finally, you just fucking ran your tongue down my body in a hot spring with a goddamn waterfall—if that wasn't wet, I don't know what the hell is."

"That was different," he muttered weakly.

"Oh, really?"

"I like making _you_ wet," he said more confidently and his hand started to glide down my leg.

I batted his hand away and stared up at him—pissed.

"Edward, you can't _not_ kiss me. You haven't even tried to."

"Fine, I will."

He smacked a peck on my lips.

"Awesome, just like grandma."

"Ew, Bella, I don't kiss my grandma on the lips, and besides, I really don't mind kissing you in other places. Like here," he kissed my nose. "Or here." He kissed just below my jaw. "Or here…" his voice became huskier and he kissed up along my neck.

My eye lids started flutter, and I knew that the ground I'd gained was slipping away.

And then I felt his fingers nudge along my legs.

So I pulled him to me, and I kissed him—again. I formed my lips around his soft, full bottom lip, and I gently sucked.

So one second I was enjoying myself.

The next second I was pushed back.

My head thwacked against the steering wheel, and I was clutching tightly to the painful spot where the new lump was assuredly forming on my scalp.

"Oh, Bella, I…" Edward gasped, reaching forward.

I pushed myself away from Edward.

I said a single word.

"Out."

"But Bella, I—"

"Out."

"Bella, no." He tried to grab me.

I lunged away.

"Get the fuck out."

"I'm sorry, Bella—I never meant to—"

"Edward you cannot stick your fingers up my pussy, and then think it is okay not to _kiss_ me," I hissed.

He gaped at me.

I leaned over him, grabbed the door handle, flung open the door, and shoved.

Edward must have been totally on the fritz, because he didn't throw out any arms to brace himself as he tumbled out and onto the drive.

"Goodbye, Edward."

I kicked the truck into gear, and I roared out of the drive.

~ * ~

Yep, that's right. I made Edward Cullen a victim of philemaphobia, sorta. That's right. It's _real_.  
But I googled this and apparently it's pretty common...

So no _hating_.

Review.


	18. Angel and Gnome

Disclaimer: SM would never have written this. Like Never. But it amuses me to borrow her characters... and torture them.

So this is seriously...

*Looks for a descriptive adjective*

I blame it on the gnome, which was never supposed to be a part of this story, so I'm dedicating the gnome to wtvoc because she loves guh-gnomes. And this chapter was not supposed to exist. But it does now. Like, no joke, I still keep trying to get to the next point on my plot outline and instead small creatures like gnomes and frogs and children keep creeping in.

Also I was bored in the grocery store...

* * *

Chapter 17:

In Which Angels Are Laid and Gnome Finds a New Love

It seemed like I couldn't cry enough today.

Or stop laughing out loud like an unhinged lunatic.

Or refrain from clawing and smacking at various parts of the steering wheel and dash.

Yep, three broken nails and a stubbed thumb. The truck always won.

I should not have been driving, but initially I was confined to the back roads of Forks, and by now, I had calmed down from the initial round of hysterics. God, though, I still shouldn't even be on the road. Road rage was bad. Bella on the heart fuddled-sob-stampede was ten times worse.

To top it all, my cell rang. I almost didn't pick it up, but then I saw the name flash across the screen.

_Rosalie._

There was zero chance that Edward would be calling on Rose's phone. Rose didn't like people to "touch her shit" as she so often put it, so I knew I was safe when I pressed the green button.

"Bella?" her voice called.

"Oh, hi, Rose," I greeted weakly.

"Can you tell me why the fuck Edward is making snow angels out on the driveway? It's annoying me."

"Uh…"

"Something happened between the two of you, didn't it?"

"Uh… don't know what you're talking about?" My voice cracked on a high note.

"He won't fucking _move_, Bella."

"He's not _seriously_ injured or anything, is he?" I emphasized "seriously," but I also clammed up slightly as I realized he could have hurt himself when I shoved him out of the truck.

"No. He just won't _move_. I threatened to run him over with the M3, and he just nodded his head like a fucking chimpanzee. As you might imagine, that _really_ ticked me off, because running him over could fuck up _my_ axle, and he knows that, so I told him I'd skip the M3 and go straight to smashing him with his Volvo, and the little fucker actually cringed at that, but then he told me to just go ahead and get it over with."

"That all sounds very interesting, Rose," I murmured, not really listening but focusing instead on the road and my own bitter thoughts.

"Bella, what the hell? Now, I _know_ something happened."

"Nothing important happened," I choked on the words.

_It was over before even started._ More tears.

"Are you crying?"

"Rose, can I call you back? I'm driving?" I managed to gasp out.

Rose ignored my request, and I could feel the explosion coming. "You _are_ crying."

A brief pause.

"I'm going to _throttle_ that little prick. What did he do?" she demanded.

I stopped at the stop sign.

I held the phone away from my face and tapped the mike. "Eh, sorry, Rose." Tap. "Can't hear you." Tap. "Bad connection." Tap. "Call you back…"

"Bella, if you think I'm going to believe that line of—"

I clicked the phone off.

My phone continued to go off after that. Rose. Alice. Rose. Alice.

I ignored it.

But then I saw him.

I pulled over, parking on the shoulder, and hopped out of my car, leaving the engine still running.

I crouched down on the grass, picking up the severed pieces.

The gnome.

He wasn't decapitated or anything, but his pointy red cone hat had been cracked off in two distinct terracotta chunks. I picked up the pieces, holding the base steady as I aligned the fissured edges to match up.

The pieces held steady for a minute, but then they fell apart.

And I fell apart, too.

"You're not a murderer!" I sobbed, holding aloft the disparate hunks of gnome in each of my hands. I eventually clutched them to my chest and held them there, weeping pathetically.

I was only awakened from my waterworks by the realization that a small but persistent pressure was repeating itself on my shoulder. I raised my face and saw a little boy patting my shoulder. Next to him was another little boy. He was identical to the first. When I raised my head, I received twin cute smiles.

"Er… hello?" I greeted, giving them a confused smile in return.

"Did you break Mr. Bergendorf's gnome?" twin right asked with one tiny hand perched on his hip.

"Not exactly…?"

"You are _sad_. You were _crying_," twin left declared with dramatic emphasis, shaking his head up and down knowingly.

"Eh, a bit."

"Is it because of the gnome?" twin right offered.

"Not so much…"

"Is it because of men problems?" twin left asked.

"Sorta?" I offered.

Twin left looked proud of his tiny self and smiled smugly at twin right, who wrinkled his nose back at him. "My mom says women's problems always come from men problems," twin left informed me most sagely.

"I guess," I agreed.

"Mr. Bergendorf won't be mad about the gnome," twin right said.

"He won't?"

"No way!" twin left exclaimed. "He hates that gnome, but mom says Old Berg's a stingy ole coot, and he keeps trying to sell the gnome off at garage sales every year, but no one ever buys him, but Old Berg's too lazy to ever drop him off at the dump."

"Oh, that's too bad. He's a nice gnome, isn't he?"

The twins simultaneously wrinkled their noses.

"We don't like him," they declared in unison.

I looked down sadly at the gnome. Nobody liked him—and he was broken.

_Just like me._

"I'm going to take him home and fix him," I announced defiantly.

Twin right raised an eyebrow at me. "Really?" he asked. They were both eyeing my skeptically.

"Most certainly," I retorted, defensively clutching the gnome to my chest.

The boys shared a look before turning back to me.

"You're a weird lady," twin left informed me.

"Thanks," I replied flatly. "Well, then, I'll be going now."

_Children are far too honest, especially in pairs._

They both giggled.

Holding the three fragments together, I walked back to my truck and climbed in, setting the many pieces of Gnome in the passenger seat. As I kicked the truck into gear and started back down the street, I received twin waves from the two little strangers. I gave in and waved back. Even if they had called me a "weird lady," they remained unfortunately adorable. Well, that, and they moved in unison.

At some point I realized my phone was no longer ringing but beeping.

A text message.

From Alice.

_We are coming to get you._

Oh. Fuck. No.

I _speeded_.

Bella, diligent daughter of most illustrious Forks Chief of Police Charlie Swan, did not speed.

I obeyed traffic ordinances to the full extent of the law.

But I was fully aware that Rosalie would be following in her M3, and Rose liked to rip up the road like she intended to win the race and still have spare time to bitch slap the entire Nascar line-up at the finish line.

So, obeisance to the public code was not on my priority list at the moment.

And even if one of Charlie's troopers caught me, it wouldn't be that bad. I'd tell them I was the one who murdered the flamingo. Me. Not Gnome. Gnome was fucking framed. Hopefully, they would lock me in an iron-barred cell. No, that wouldn't work, and Alice could probably squeeze through the bars, or Charlie would just unlock the gate for her. _But_ if I worked up an act, Charlie might merely conclude I'd finally tipped over that very sharp edge I'd been cutting my toes on for several years and would ultimately give up and commit me to a nice little padded room where Gnome and I could chill for the remainder of my adolescence.

I sucked at lying, though, so it probably wouldn't work. I sighed in defeat.

Meanwhile, the truck was choking as I kept the gas pedal glued to the floor.

It was choking and coughing at 49 mph.

Desperate measures needed to be taken.

Going home was not an option.

Alice and Rosalie were sufficiently savvy to know every last niche and cranny where I might consider hiding in Forks. They knew it better than I did. Better yet, Alice would probably call Charlie and tell him I'd gone missing and then put an APB for a missing and mentally unstable Bella Swan.

If I stayed in Forks, it was only a matter of time before they hunted me down.

I looked at the clock.

A smile crept up.

School was out everywhere.

Including La Push.

I made a sharp turn.

I headed to Jake's.

I pulled the truck into the drive of the familiar wooden house with faded red paint and narrow windows. Jacob's head was already hanging out the front door as I turned off the truck. He ran out to meet me in the truck.

"Bella!" Jake exclaimed, his white teeth standing in vivid contrast to the deep russet of his skin.

I tried to muster a smiled for him.

His face fell into an expression of shock.

"Bella, you look…" His voice faltered as he looked me over. "I mean, seriously, who died?"

I held up Gnome.

"Can we save him?" I asked tremulously.

Jake stared at me for a second, his mouth hanging wide open and his tongue was clearly pressing against his bottom row of teeth.

"Alright," he finally answered slowly. "I think I have a glue gun."

He took Gnome out of my arms, and we went into the house.

Twenty minutes later and Gnome had his pointy red dunce hat back in proper order. Jake had to restrain me from hugging Gnome. Apparently, Gnome needed several minutes for the glue to set, so I settled for patting him gently on the back.

"So, Bella…" Jake turned toward me, arms crossed.

"Umhmmm…" I murmured, not really paying attention and focusing on the faded paint spot on Gnome's ear.

"Why the 'David the Gnome' obsession?"

"I liked that show, but his name isn't David."

"Oh, geez, Bella, forgive me. Let me have it. What is his name?"

"Gnome, of course," I sniffed.

"You know… I like to think I'm an understanding guy and all, but you're, like, acting weird—even for you. Have you been smoking anything?

I rolled my eyes at him.

"Hash, hookah, peyote, unknown flora, chemical inhalants, fairy dust…"

I started to march out the door.

Jake grabbed my shoulder.

"Bella, I'll quit joking. I promise. Now, what's wrong?"

I sat down on the couch and crossed my arms. "It's ridiculous and complicated," I grumbled.

"Eh, Bells, forgive me for not being shocked at your words, but I spent the last twenty minutes doing hat surgery on an ugly lawn ornament, so I need a bit more info than that."

I frowned at him.

He responded with a frustrated look.

"So Alice and Rose dressed me in tramp clothes this morning," I began.

Jake raised an eyebrow and grinned at me. "Oh, really?"

I rolled my eyes. "It was a ploy to get Edward to ask me to the dance."

"Did he?" Jake blurted—he looked anxious.

"Not exactly, but sort of."

"English, Bells."

I turned bright red. "Let's just say… for a minute, I thought I was his girlfriend."

Jake's face was blank. "What do you mean by 'for a minute'?"

I blushed even deeper, looking away. "Well, things didn't work out."

"Did you reject him? Did he reject you?" Jake grilled me.

"I guess… some of both?" My voice weakened.

Jake looked frustrated again. "You're making no sense," he muttered, but then he noticed the tears welling in the corners of my eyes. He pulled me towards him, wrapping his arms around me. "Dang, Bells, I don't get it. Any guy who wouldn't give you everything you want is a total douche bag, because you're the greatest, you know?"

I smiled up at him but my face fell almost immediately.

"Women's problems come from men problems," I quoted.

Jake raised an eyebrow at me, but chose not to say anything.

A few minutes passed with me curled up against Jake.

"So, are you going to explain this to me?" Jake asked.

"It's sort of private, Jake…"

"What? You don't kiss and tell?"

My answering laugh was all kinds of hysterical.

"I'm your best friend, right?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Then, tell me. You obviously need to talk to a sane person about this."

"And you qualify?"

"Mostly, although I did help you fix the gnome. I'm sure that counts against me somewhere."

"Probably." I smirked.

"Tell me."

"You don't want to hear it."

"Eh, but I do," he answered. "Otherwise I wouldn't be asking."

I slapped my hand over my forehead, hiding my eyes.

"Tell, Bells," he rhymed while tapping his fingers rhythmically on the end table.

"You have to promise not to tell a soul," I ordered.

"Pinky?" he asked, he held up his.

I held up mine. We locked. Deal made.

"Jake, know that I will cut off your pinkie if you tell anyone about this."

"I won't tell. Now you tell."

"So Edward and I agreed we liked each other."

Jake cringed, but then his face smoothed. "And…?" he urged.

"But-Edward-has-a... funny-thingy-and-he-really-does-not-like-kissing."

"Uh-blah-blah-bleh-blah. What was that Bella? Something about kissing?" he asked, but then his expression hardened as if a new thought had taken over and he demanded, "Did he do something to you?"

My eyes popped, and I blushed thinking about what Edward _did_ do to me at the grotto, and I wasn't about to tell Jake about _that_, so I told him the other truth instead. "He doesn't like kissing."

"Wha…?" Jake's brow furrowed in disbelief.

It was like I couldn't stop my mouth. "I tried to kiss him, and I got pushed back into the steering wheel?" I stated it like it was a question.

"That's not cool…" Jake trailed, and there was the strangest expression on his face.

"So, yeah," I finished, wringing my hands.

"Dang, so is Gnome supposed to be like a replacement boyfriend?"

I snorted, laughing happily for the first time all day, while I shook my head.

"Good, 'cuz I have to admit, for a minute there I was pretty worried…"

I hit his leg.

He laughed and pulled me in tighter for a hug. I noticed when his breathing changed. "Jake?" I asked, peering up at him.

Jake was looking at my mouth. "Bella, you deserve…"

He didn't finish his sentence because he pressed his lips against mine. He kissed me, sweetly but insistently, his lips begging against own. Jake's hands gripped tightly around the back of my neck, forbidding any retreat.

I was in utter, complete shock.

My eyes popped and my hands flailed about, but Jake didn't seem to notice. His mouth was soft, and his lips molded to mine in a warm, inviting way, and I was suddenly very, very angry—for the tenth time of the day, because I realized that what Jake was doing to me—kissing me—felt incredible, but I also realized that I did not for a second longer want to be kissing Jake.

I wanted to be kissing Edward.

Badly.

Not Jake. I pushed against Jake.

Didn't work.

So, I did a mean thing.

I jabbed him in the eye.

Not super hard.

But hard enough to make a point.

Jake's lips broke from mine, and he fell back onto the couch, hand clamped over his eye.

"What the hell, Bella?" he cried.

"What. The. Hell. Bella. What. The. Hell. Bella. What! The! Hell! Bella!" I fumed.

"You just fucking kissed me, JAKE. That's What-the-Hell-Bella!" I finished in a shrill yell.

Jake was gaping at me as he looked on from one eye.

"You needed to be kissed."

"Jake, you're my _best friend_."

This did appear to affect him. "Well, maybe I also like kissing you," he returned.

"Jake, I'm not your girlfriend."

"You could be."

"Fuck, everything. I'm leaving," I spat, marching toward the door.

"You needed to know your options, Bella," Jake brightly informed me. He looked completely unfazed by my reaction.

"Fine!" I yelled on the front threshold.

But then I stopped and pivoted on my heel, turning and glaring at Jake.

"Gnome _can_ be my boyfriend!" I walked out onto the door toward my truck.

Jake's frenzied laughter followed me the door.

I heard Jake's voice calling after as I marched to my truck, huffing and cursing under my breath.

"Forgetting something, Bells?" he called.

I stopped. I didn't want to, but I needed to.

I turned. Jake was holding up Gnome.

I marched back and ripped Gnome out of his hands.

With gnome seated shotgun, I roared out of the drive. Somehow, I could hear Jacob's laugh following us.


	19. Petit Fours and Broken Limbs

Disclaimer: Twilight ain't mine. I just clutch onto my waterfall.

* * *

Chapter Eighteen:

In Which Petit Fours Are Popped and Limbs Are Twice Tested

When I pulled up the truck in front of my house, Emmett and Rosalie were there, both sitting high up on the front of Emmett's unnecessarily oversized jeep.

Emmett was chewing on a Slim Jim. He looked happy.

Rosalie had her arms crossed. Her piercing blue eyes honed in on me, and she looked ready to pounce, but she also kept flicking cold glances at Emmett's snack-of-choice.

I slid out of my truck, clutching Gnome to my chest.

Emmett's eyes popped as they fell upon Gnome, and he gave me a look like I'd brought home Christmas. "Why do you carry one of the little people?" he asked, temporarily forgetting his Slim Jim.

"He's not a little people. He's a _gnome_," I corrected hm.

"Well, why have you a gnome, Bella?"

"Edward murdered him."

"He doesn't look _dead_."

"Jacob fixed him."

"Oh." Emmett looked very troubled for Emmett.

During the exchange, Rose was scrutinizing me. She took in my full appearance: my puffy eyes, swollen lips, wild hair, wrinkled clothes, and last but not least, the gnome. Suddenly, her lips pursed in a tight line, and she turned on Emmett. "You're leaving. _Now_. You're driving to Port Angeles, and you're stopping by Laurie's and you're getting two boxes of petit fours and a box of her house herbal tea—and then you're going to Renaldo's and picking up a platter of their mushroom ravioli—extra sauce. I'll call in the orders. You'll just have to pick them up."

Emmett nodded his head furiously to placate Rose. I found that I was nodding, too. I made a point to stop.

"And I swear to God, Emmett, if a single petit four goes missing from the box, I'll make sure Esme cooks turnips, parsnips, rutabaga and every other root vegetable that's not a potato for the next month—and I'll make you eat every last bite of it."

Emmett looked somber for a minute, but then his expression grew roguish, and he leaned over and began rapidly whispering in her ear. Rose listened intently, but then I saw her back tense and straighten and her hand unconsciously slid down and squeezed her knee. I had to fight back a groan—because I knew what it meant when Rose squeezed her leg. At school, this normally ended with her and Emmett sneaking off beneath the bleachers. After a minute, though, Rose started batting Emmett away.

"Fine. But at least two."

"And a Slim Jim?" Emmett countered.

Rose scowled at him, but then she nodded.

"And I'll get my own box."

"Emmett, you can't eat a whole box of petit fours."

"I'll save one for Jasper."

"Save half a dozen—there are two dozen in each box."

"But they're like individual, tiny cakes, like Slim Jims or string cheese, so I need to eat a lot of them. Besides, Laurie makes them from scratch, right? No chemicals…"

"Ahhhhhh!" Rose threw her hands up in the air and gave a frustrated groan. "Emmett, go. Now."

Emmett left.

I opened the front door. Rose followed me. I set Gnome on the kitchen counter and turned slowly, expecting to see Rosalie waiting to bear down on me, but she wasn't there. Coming from the living room, I heard the squeaking hinges of cabinets being opened and plastic clicking against wood. I walked in to see Rose going through Charlie's movie collection.

"You haven't updated your movies since you were seven, have you?" she asked without looking up.

"I pretty much haven't lived here since I was three."

She turned around then, and she held up two movies. "_Princess Bride_ or _Sleeping Beauty_?"

"Can't we watch _Fight Club_?" I reached above her and snatched it off the shelf.

"_Fight Club?_ That's not exactly a chick flick."

"I don't want to watch any fluffy bullshit," I mumbled, turning away.

But then Rose did the unthinkable. She hugged me.

While Rose was a very physical person, she tended not to be a very affectionate one, so my suddenly finding myself thrown over her perfumed shoulder and plunged into her golden mane was something of a shocker.

It didn't last long, though. Rose pushed me back, holding both of my shoulders. "You smell rank."

I frowned indignantly at her. There was bluntness, and then there was bluntness…

"What the hell did you get up to today?" She leaned forward indelicately sniffing me, as I cringed away in affront. "I smell sulfur, piss, sex, glue, and a tinge of strawberry." She gave me a sardonic stare and continued, "You know, you probably took away the favorite piss post of the hounds in this town when you picked up that ugly little lawn ornament?"

I sniffed reproachfully, refusing to answer her. _Another reason to save Gnome._

"Take a shower, Bella. I need to make those phone calls anyway."

I went upstairs and hopped in the shower.

I stayed in the shower much longer than necessary, even though for once I did not welcome the steam or the flow of warm water. I sat down on the floor of the tub, my legs unwilling to stand any longer, and slowly massaged shampoo into my hair, the scent of strawberries finally overwhelming every other.

I was at my wit's end. My brain bleeped kaput after several failed attempts to process thought or emotion in a coherent, methodical order. Instead, the events of the day leap-frogged through as one image after the next: Death by poetry in the morning. Alice, Rose, and I standing in front of the mirror, squeaking and shining. Edward yanking the slips of paper out from under my suspender, trashing them. Edward sniping at me at the lunch table. My verifiably committable conversation with Sir Frog. Edward's set jaw as his eyes bore into mine in the grotto. The feeling of Edward's fingers as they stroked me…

_No._

I groaned. I tried to think about other things. Like Gnome.

_Thinking about Gnome was stupid_.

I knew it was stupid. Hitherto, I'd never been prone to such childish antics… well, at least not publicly. Publicly, I'd always been the adult, the responsible one, the student who studied hard and earned my spot on the honor roll, the daughter that paid the bills on time and set my foot down on the purchase of boa constrictors and master sandcastle-maker kits.

Privately, though, I had always been prone to internal monologues and flights of fancy, but I'd also considered such traits to be the unavoidable result of being an only child with a batty kindergarten teacher for a mother. But I'd been clutching onto Gnome like a long lost comfort blanket.

Yet, I knew that if I tried to take the "womanly route," as my mother would term it, and dove down the hole with dearest Rabbit, it wouldn't work. It'd be like squeezing blood out of a turnip.

_I'd always liked that idiom._

But then the memory of chopping turnips took my fickle tinker right back to my favorite and least favorite vegetarian.

_Gah._ Edward Cullen made me feel like a dumb little girl—and a woman. All at the same time. I sorta wanted to hit him for it-and kiss him.

Oh, that's right… he wouldn't like _that_.

At some point, I realized that the hot water had started to ebb, so, I got out. I toweled off and slipped into the crummiest sweat pants and baggie t-shirt I could find.

I stood at the top of the stairs, and I was prepared to head down, but then I heard Emmett's heavy steps and booming voice coming from the kitchen. "I have the mini cakes!"

"They are called petit fours, Emmett." I heard Alice correct him tartly.

"They're yummy."

"Emmett, take some home for Edward, maybe they'll cheer him up."

I heard Emmett snort. "Edward does not get mini cakes."

"Is he finally moving?"

"He's at the piano."

I heard the answering of feminine groans.

"Yep, Carlisle tried telling him that if he didn't stop playing funeral music, he was going to ground him, but then Eddo started playing Christmas tunes… but he played them like an angry, old Mrs. Claus just informed that Santa knocked up that elf slut she'd always suspected. Specifically, he was tone-raping Jingle Bells, and it tripped me out, so I had to leave."

I only heard silence in response.

I decided that it was now or never to descend the stairs.

Well, that and I smelled Italian.

When I reached the bottom of the steps, Rose and Alice bustled about the kitchen, filling glasses and loading plates with ravioli and sweet scented garlic bread. They smiled up at me, but didn't say anything. I couldn't help but think that there was some cunning level of strategy involved, but still, their being there, feeding me-it was sweet.

Emmett was popping petit fours like peanuts.

After I'd gotten a few mouthfuls down, Alice turned, and she had the determined look on her face, and I shrank back, knowing that the assault was brewing, but then Charlie came in, distracting all of us, greeting us all hello, smiling all crinkly-eyed at me, and beaming like an idiot when he saw Alice.

"What's that there?" Charlie pointed to the loaded plates.

"It's ravioli, Charlie. Here, I made you a plate," Alice said, shoving a plate into his hands.

Stupid small talk followed.

At some point I noticed that my father was staring dumbly at Emmett's gobbling of tea cakes. Emmett held out the petit four box. "Take one, Chief."

Charlie looked down skeptically. I'm pretty sure that Charlie had a mental rule against digesting anything pastel and French, lest it be rare steak, of course.

"Women are cunning, Chief. They paint them pink and purple to hide them from us."

Apparently this logic satisfied Charlie, because after eating the first one, he enthusiastically came back for a second.

The phone rang. Charlie went to answer it.

After a brief exchange, Charlie called, "Hey, Bella, it's Jake."

"I'm not home," I snapped.

"Jake said you'd say that."

"I don't want to talk to him."

A long pause, as Charlie turned back to the phone.

"Jake wants to know how your new boyfriend is doing?" and by his voice, Charlie let it be known that he, too, was also very interested to hear this bit, as was Rose, Alice, and Emmett.

I groaned angrily, standing up and snatching the phone from Charlie.

"Very funny, Jake. Ha. Ha. Ha. Gnome is right as rain, thank you very much."

I heard a boom of laughter from Emmett. I ignored it.

"Geez, Bells. I just wanted to call and apologize," Jake muttered.

"What for?"

"Uh, that'd be kissing you."

"Oh, yeah, _that_. Don't worry I've already burned it out of my memory."

"Ouch, Bella.

"How's your eye?"

"It's still attached."

"Too bad."

"I thought you said you'd forgiven me."

"No, I said I burned it out my memory. That's different."

"So, you made up with the salad snob, yet?"

"Way to be clever, Jake, and no I haven't."

"Bella, you're being catty."

"Well, you were supposed to be my best friend."

"I am your best friend."

"Best friends don't shove their tongues—" I paused, because I heard a collective gasp behind me.

"Bells, I told you I'm sorry."

"Goodbye, Jake."

I slammed down the phone, and without looking behind me, I stormed up the steps and locked myself in my room.

I expected to hear threats and pounding, but I didn't.

Once I heard the house quiet down, and Charlie had finally close his bedroom door to go to sleep, I crept out of my room and into the bathroom. I did the usual, brushed my teeth and washed my face, but then I opened the medicine cabinet.

Nyquil. Normally, I wouldn't take such measures, but I'd swear I had a sniffle the past few days…

Really, I just didn't want the painful insomnia or the tortured dreams. I needed sleep.

Charlie kept a lock on the liqueur cabinet.

So I took a carefully measured dose and marched back to my bedroom, laying down and waiting for sleep to take me.

Finally, it did.

I was startled awake by an eerie screeching sound followed by a rapping.

I shot up in bed, unable to stop myself from looking at the window.

A dark figure loomed.

I started to open my mouth to scream, but then a voice stopped me.

I heard a muffled, "Bella, it's me," being called from outside the glass.

I drowsily flopped back down in my bed. The Nyquil was supposed to have prevented nightmares. So, if I just closed my eyes…

But then I heard it again.

"Bella, open up."

I sat up again, and groaning, I made my way over to the window. Sure enough, Edward was perched on the branch just outside my window.

"Edward, why are you in my tree?"

"I wanted to see you."

"You need to stop fucking spying on me from trees."

"Bella…"

"You're going to fall. I'm not sure anyone has ever fallen from two trees in a single day."

"Bella, let me in."

"I'm pretty sure that'd put you up for the Darwin awards."

"I won't fall if you'd let me in."

"Maybe I want you to fall."

"My ass is already bruised from the fall from your truck. Do I deserve a broken arm, too?"

It took a second for my foggy brain to do the math. I wiggled the tree.

"Bella!" Edward gasped, clutching on.

"Does that answer your question? Go home, Edward." I started to close the window.

"I. Want. To. Kiss. You."

I stopped, pushed the window back up, and peered out at him.

"No, you don't."

"Well, I want to try."

"You tried earlier. You won the geriatric prize, if you remember."

"Bella, I wasn't ready then. Just let me try, please."

I crossed my arms. "This is about Jake, isn't it? You heard about Jake. They told you."

I could see his jaw clench even in the dark. "Maybe."

"I'm not the prize of your pissing contest, Edward."

"It's not a pissing contest, Bella. You _are_ my girlfriend," and he gave that little Edward whine, and I could literally feel my knees weakening.

"Edward, I've had a long day, if you didn't notice, and I'm pretty fogged up on Nyquil, so maybe we can talk about this in the morning, okay?"

The fool smiled at me.

"Okay, but let me kiss you goodnight, Bella. _Please_, Bella?"

I let my head fall down in defeat as I realized I was incapable of saying no, so I resorted to sarcasm. "Just how are you going to make it onto my sill, Romeo? I'm not Rapunzel, here," I chided.

Edward just grinned at me, making my brain cloud over, and then he started climbing further down the branch. It started to tremble erratically, scaring me, so I braced it tightly until he reached the end of the limb.

And then he hopped lithely down and onto my sill. His hands were on my cheeks. In my hair. On my sides. And I sort of went limp.

I heard him chuckle.

I felt myself being lain down on my bed and then, he lay down, too, at my side, and then he pushed up and positioned himself over me. And despite the fact that my muscles were sunk into the mattress like lead weights, my lungs were chugging away with the violence of a turn-of-the-century locomotive, and the sensation of Edward's body over my body was forcing me to resort to choked gasps.

Edward hovered over me, his eyes boring into mine, and it looked like he was waiting for something.

"You said—kiss—goodnight," I rasped.

He kissed my neck and then a line down my jaw, and then lowered himself slightly, letting his weight rest on me.

"Is this okay?" he asked.

I nodded stupidly.

"Just no tongue, yet, okay, Bella?"

I stuck my tongue out at him.

He rolled his eyes. "You can be so petulant."

"_So_." I countered. I couldn't think of better response, and I was _tired_.

Another chuckle.

"I want your lips against mine—I just need time, Bella—and no _tongue._"

I nodded.

"Close your eyes," he whispered.

I did. I felt him hesitate, to prepare himself, to focus his mind, and then his lips pressed very softly against mine.

The sensation shot straight from my lips and down through my body. My breathing fluttered in wild panting. My fingers entangled in his hair, forcing him nearer to me. My lips parted as I fought to draw him closer. At the parting of my lips, I felt him turn into unmoving stone beneath my lips. He gently, yet with undeniable force, pulled away.

I opened my eyes to see his guarded expression.

"Oops."

He gave me a wry smile. "You're the queen of understatement, Bella."

"I'm sorry," I whispered, and I turned my face away because I knew those watery villains were threatening to spill out of the corners of my eyes.

He pulled it back. "I love you, Bella."

I blinked at him.

He laughed and kissed the corners of my eyes. I couldn't help it so I smiled.

"I think about you all the time, Edward," I whispered.

"Do you love me?"

"Yep."

"Then, say it."

"I love you."

He kissed me, just gently. His lips brushed a feathery circle around my bottom lip until I could take it no more, and then our lips interlocked and unlocked, and in spite of my fears and his, I relaxed, and I felt him relaxing, too.

And then we were just touching.

Embracing.

Trailing fingers.

Loving and welcoming.

And then Edward started softly humming to me, a sweet and lyrical melody that inked a dreamy smile onto my face.

It was beautiful.

I snuggled closer to him, sighing into his chest.

Sleep took me.


	20. Angel and Devil

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.

**AN: **Rightie-o. I'm supposed to blame this delay on wtvoc, 'cuz she had me watch Sixteen Candles even though I told her I needed to work on my damn story. _Uh-huh_.

And there are certain bits of biz to go over.

First, WE HAVE A BLOG!

I know, you're like who doesn't, right?

But needless to say, some of the best ladies in Twilight have put up a rec blog at discerningficster(dot)blogspot(dot)com AND the recommended fics are all brillig and all of that. Like most of them are added to my Favs at this point, and I'm a lil b*tch about my favs list (it has to reflect who I am since I read like a ridik number o' fanfics), so that should tell you something.

Second, if you have suggestions for some sort of ExB cuteness you want to see in the next chap or so, now is the only time to bug me about it, cuz the dramatic portion of the plot moves on full speed after that, and the waterfall and all it's glory will return.

Oh, yeah, and there's limeyness below.

* * *

~ * ~

Chapter 19:

In Which an Angel Greets the Morning and a Devil Ends the Afternoon

~ * ~

I woke up the next morning to the most beautiful sight in the world.

The tickling rush of a sunrise breeze awoke me. The gust swept in, ruffling the thread-bare, sun-bleached curtains, which in turn caused the still honey-pink rays of light to splash about my room. I instinctively wondered how I was still so warm when my window had been left opened all night.

The window.

The tree.

Edward.

And there he was.

Edward lay at my side, his firm body pressed against mine with his mop of hair in an erratic, disheveled mess, a prickling of stubble on his chin, and his mouth slightly agape. The yellowing flickers of light flicked and flecked across his features, giving him an unearthly, even angelic glow.

I immediately felt embarrassed when I realized I had been staring, but then I caught myself.

_He was my boyfriend, and he loved me, damn it._

And the erupting delight was such that I unabashedly returned to ogling Edward, scouring every pore, every plane of his features in minute detail. There were the obvious points of artistry, for certain, like how ridiculously dark and long his eyelashes were and how unbelievably sharp the line of his jaw was, but then there were also the little marred bits, the delectable imperfections:

A subtle pink area just under his chin. Razor burn.

An angry-looking brown mole just below his left ear lobe.

A scarlet split obstructing the salmon hue of his bottom lip, probably from chapping, unquestionably not from kissing.

And thus, I found myself staring at his lips, wondering how much kissing they could take before both of our lips would be cracked and chapped.

I gave a start when they moved.

"Enjoying yourself?" the lips murmured, and then they smirked.

I raised my gaze to see Edward's sleepy eyes peering into mine. I scowled up at him, even as the corners of my mouth twitched into an almost smile.

"Ah, most assuredly, Edward, you've gone and left me undone with the pulchritude of your physiognomy," I droned in an exaggerated, almost-dead Oxford professor accent.

He had to smother a sleepy laugh, and the trembles of his laugh against me made my body clench.

"Yes, Bella, I know you think I'm _hot._ Don't even begin to think you can fool me with your sesquipedalian lexicon."

I poked him in response, even as I cracked a smile at his retort.

He grabbed my chin and kissed me. I kissed him back, gently. The realization that I might be sporting fetid morning breath weighed heavily on my mind. When our lips parted, his hands moved to softly comb through my hair. "Have I told you that you're fucking beautiful?" he asked, gazing into my eyes with an almost awe-like expression.

_Bella is officially a blobby, mucky mush._

So, I tried to respond, but it came out as a farty-sounding grunt.

Edward smothered another laugh, and the shaking was driving me to the point of insanity, but I pointblank refused to pronounce any words because at this point who knew what sounds would emerge? So I shifted myself away from him in a huff, turning my back on him.

And then he gasped, because as I turned, my ass brushed against him, and I felt through my pajama bottoms that he was quite hard.

"Morning, Edward," I drawled huskily, surprising myself with the roughness in my voice.

He didn't say anything, but his hands slid under my quilt until they found my hips, and then he yanked me back against him.

I felt the full length of him pressed into my ass.

"I can feel your cock," I murmured, my own disbelief filtering into my tone.

Edward gave a small groan at my words, even as he pulled me tighter against him. "Yes, you can," he muttered somewhat disjointedly.

"Never felt that before," I explained, feeling for some reason the need to explain myself, and I realized that besides being turned-on, I was also nervous.

"Never, ever?" he asked, surprised.

"Uh, Edward, have you pressed your cock up against me before?" I asked condescendingly, because I was still a bit nervous and more than a bit irked that this conversation was going down the path of discussing my own lack of experience.

"No, but you mentioned being thrown up against a locker…" he trailed off.

"Well, I've felt—through jeans—but I've never, you know…" and now I was the one trailing off.

"Well, do you want to?" he asked, and he was breathing heavily even as his voice sounded more hesitant than I'd ever heard it.

"Uh, yeah," I breathed, "I mean you've touched me, so I should touch you, right?"

Edward's hand latched on to mine, while the other started fumbling with the button and zipper on his pants. I realized he'd never changed out of them, and then slowly he brought my free hand back and around—but then stopped, dropping my hand completely.

"Bella—I just—are you okay with this? I mean, when you're with me, I know I just sometimes act without thinking and—"

I turned, so that I was facing him, and feeling an odd sense of karmic justice, I shoved my hand down his pants.

Edward jumped, eyes popping, teeth clenching, and groaning slightly as I fit my fingers around him. I, however, was focused on my investigations. The first aspect I noticed was the softness of the skin—because I didn't expect it, and then the shape and the length, and I was surprised again, because I knew that the average dude was supposed to be about four inches, and there were definitely far more than four inches being clutched and fingered… but then I became aware of the effect I was having on Edward, because even my very slight movements were drawing hisses and groans and inciting a wave of kisses and small bites along my neck.

I pretty much felt ridiculously proud of myself.

But then Edward shoved his hand down my pants, and unlike my movements, Edward's were not tentative or hesitant.

We both moaned at the same time when his fingers slid between my legs.

"Fuck, Bella, you're not wearing any underwear," he gasped.

"Renee said—it was always better—to let the flower—breath at night," I tried to explain through gasped breaths.

He laughed at the euphemism. "I don't know about flowers, but you have the _wettest_ little pussy."

_Fuck. There he went with the p-word again._

I couldn't help it, so I bit at his neck, while all the while sweeping my fingers up and down his cock, while he ran strokes up and down my folds.

But then we heard the noise. We froze.

It couldn't be Charlie. He'd already left for work.

A clicking of steps on the stairs. Edward furiously buttoned his pants.

Edward whispered "Does your door have a lock?" in my ear just as the door flew open, and then Edward tumbled off my bed.

Alice Cullen stood in the doorway.

And she was clapping.

And smiling.

And bouncing.

This annoyed me, so I threw my pillow at her.

She caught it easily and hugged it to her chest, before skipping over and hopping on top of my bed in front of me. Edward was still crouched on the floor. His face held a brotherly expression of irritation. I tried to send him a comforting expression, while shooting daggers at Alice.

_That's right, baby, little monkey woman cock-blocked us._

But I noticed she held a coffee, so I didn't take the evil looks too far.

"Finally!" Alice squealed. "Took you two long enough!" and then she returned to her clapping and bouncing.

"Alice," Edward warned.

"Oh, shut up, Edward," she snapped back. "This moment wouldn't need heralding if you weren't such a prude." But then she looked the two of us over in our disheveled states, and she started laughing.

I scowled at her.

"You're so lucky I'm here," she declared to Edward.

_Lucky she brought coffee. _I reached my hand out for it, but she batted my hand away.

Edward raised an eyebrow at her.

She smiled, but then she reached into her oversized bag. She pulled out two sets of clothes. I couldn't help but notice that they were in the same color scheme—deep blue and charcoal gray.

"Bella. Shower. Now," she commanded.

I grumbled, trying to swipe the plastic container from her, but she drew it back, before giving me a shove toward the door.

I went to go shower.

~ * ~

I arrived at school absurdly happy. For many reasons:

1. Edward Cullen was my boyfriend.

2. I had a double espresso in my palm.

3. Edward Cullen had his piano-talented fingers in my back jeans pocket as we walked to the front entrance.

4. I was wearing jeans—and _sneakers_!

5. Alice Cullen was stomping along behind us in a total and complete fury, muttering insults about Payless shoes and Wal-Mart jeans and Benedict Arnold brothers.

The louder the insults, the more deliriously delighted I became.

Alice did not seem to decipher the connection, but whatever.

I didn't see what the big deal was. Something about Ralph Lauren getting whored, apparently, but both Edward and I wore the shirts that she'd brought over. Edward had even complimented me on how the royal blue shade complemented my skin, and then there was the way that Edward's stretch cotton shirt adhered to his muscles. Edward looked damn fine.

Like, fine enough to lick.

And I did, I licked right under the back corner of his jaw.

And in turn, he licked me back, right in the crook of my neck.

Alice started yelling something about public dignity.

Whatever. She and Jasper jumped and leapt on each other like the fucking Ice Capades in public.

Casual licking was _certainly_ more acceptable than twist lifts and throw jumps.

I told her this.

"Bella, it's the cheerleader thing. I'm the main flyer, so it comes naturally."

"Alice you _like_ jumping on Jasper, and he likes catching you."

"That's not the same as _licking_," she spat.

To prove the absurd bunkness of her argument, I licked Edward's neck again.

He didn't seem to mind, in fact his hand in my jeans pocket gave a little squeeze, but Alice stomped off and away.

She had finally got the message.

So Edward and I crawled back into his Volvo and made out.

Still no tongue.

But we were figuring it out.

The problem came when we had to rush to class. Edward insisted on accompanying me to Building A.

Bad idea.

Stationed yet again at the door were Connor and Matt, but now in addition, Eric and Tyler had joined them. When they saw me walking up to the door with Edward, they stared.

Edward pulled me to him, gripping my waist tightly against his hip.

I realized that in a normal world I should have been irritated by his jealousy-driven over-protectiveness.

But as it was, I was having trouble not licking him again.

"Hello, Bella," Tyler greeted.

He didn't look at Edward.

"Are you planning on moving out of the way anytime soon, Tyler?" Edward asked.

"We just were wondering what was up with you and Bella, Edward?" Connor asked, obviously reacting to the tension in Edward's voice.

"Bella is _my_—"

But Edward didn't finish his sentence because Tyler was talking over him.

To me.

"So, Bella, after our little time in the closet yesterday, I was hoping you'd—"

Tyler didn't get to finish his sentence.

Because Edward punched him.

Hard.

Like fist-into-the-nose hard.

Hard, like blood-running-down-Tyler's-face hard.

I stared at Edward in horror.

And he stared back in mutual shock.

And then I smelled the blood.

My vision blurred.

And Edward's face swam out of my vision.

~ * ~

I woke up to yelling.

And the owner of the voice was not whom I expected.

Esme Cullen's ordinarily honeyed voice was unleashing angry and wraith-like screams in the office room.

"Emmett McCarty Cullen! How could you?" Esme demanded.

"Dude, mom, we wanted to get Edward to ask her," a bizarrely quiet-voiced Emmett returned.

"Edward said she got _attacked_ in a broom closet because of you!" Esme yelled furiously.

"But mom, we wanted _Edward_ to get her in a broom closet!" Emmett countered.

Esme gasped.

"No, I mean, mom, like I would have wanted anything happen to Bella. It's not my fault Tyler was a nasty creep, and Edward was being such a prude—"

"Emmett! You're brother is probably getting suspended for this!"

"Oh, that's it?!" Emmett looked relieved.

"Emmett! Aren't you at all worried about your brother?"

Esme looked on the verge of tears.

"Well, he's got Bella now and that's cool," Emmett said, nodding thoughtfully. "Then he threw a pretty good punch at Tyler, mom, and I think he's pissed at me, too—so I am pretty worried about my jaw at the moment to be honest—so if you could keep him away—"

But then Esme saw that I was sitting up.

"—Bella," she gasped tenderly, and she sat down next to me. "How are you?" she asked, pulling my hands into hers.

"I'm fine," I returned, "but I don't really know what happened. Where are Edward and Tyler?"

"Tyler's getting his nose fixed, and Edward is sitting in the principal's office with Carlisle," she explained tenderly.

"Tyler is a jerk," I muttered.

"Yeah, he is," Emmett agreed.

"Emmett, I hate you right now," I snapped at him.

Emmett gave me a rueful smile in return. "Dude, Bella, that's cool. I can take it. I know that deep in the recesses of your..."

But he trailed off, because I was giving him the death stare.

Esme patted me affectionately on the head.

~ * ~

A short while later, Edward emerged from the bowels of the principal's office with Carlisle. Carlisle and Esme were taking him directly home. Something about letting him calm down.

But he had four scheduled detentions after school.

For the entire rest of the week.

He'd even have to come back to school at the end of the day to make the first one.

So after giving my hand a lingering squeeze, Edward went home.

And I stayed at school.

Without him.

Thankfully, no one else was thick enough to ask me about the dance. I think they'd figured it out.

I did, however, notice girls giving me nasty looks. Like cross-eyed, pig-nosed, yellow-toothed sneers kind-of-looks.

And Lauren-bimbo-boobs-Mallory tried to trip me in Trig.

But Mike caught me.

Although Jessica refused to talk to me.

~ * ~

At lunch, Rosalie held me close to her and threw a constant stream of radishes at Emmett.

Emmett stood very still and let each and every one of them bounce off his hard skull.

It should have been funny.

But I was still sad because Edward had gotten detention because of me.

And because I couldn't lick him like I wanted to.

I was walking to Gym after Biology, with Mike Newton jabbering away, when I looked up to see a smug-faced asshole with a bandaged nose walking towards us.

I didn't hesitate.

I walked up to him.

"Missing your boyfriend, Bella?" Tyler ribbed, sounding horribly nasal through his bandages.

I thought about saying something clever.

Like how maybe now that his nose was broken he'd have a chance to get that double bump fixed.

Or how small his cock was.

_Especially_ in comparison to Edward's.

Or just how much I hated him.

But none of those words seemed to meet my current need.

So I pulled one for my boyfriend.

And Tyler Crowley got punched in the nose for the second time that day.

~ * ~

* * *

Rollin' with the punches...

Review!


	21. Stalled and Called

_Disclaimer:_ Twilight and it's universe belongs to Stephenie Meyer. I'm just a'playin'.

**Random Bits o' biz:**

What I'm Reading—I've been good about this for WaxCr—but I've sucked at keeping it up for N&W. My main recommendation for hot-Edward-smexin'-with-a-cigarette are the stories by americnxidiot. I'm not a big let's-read-your-descriptions person as far as FF goes, but she really describes everything in the most fascinating way, and yet she still manages to make me read every word and fan myself over her feckin' sexy ExB stories. As far as funny goes, I've been reading the stories by GuineaPigBarbie for very dry, bitter smarmy wonderfulness.

Self-Pimpin'—my "adult" story, Sin and Incivility, is officially complete, and it makes sense now that it's all nice and tight—and all that was not what it seemed has had its seams sown up in a tight little seven chapter bundle… so consider checking that out, and I also wrote a really horrifying (and funny) Emmett one shot for mischiefmaker1 and fiberkitty's contest. It's like… Road Trip or American Pie humor meets Chasing Amy so be forewarned. Also, go and check out the other stories under the C2 group under their combo name kittenmischief. (And if you're wondering about the status of WaxCr, see my profile.)

**So**, this is undeniably the most demented of all N&W chapters—and yes, there is actually a point to this writing-wise, so even if it is neither funny nor hot—there is still a point.

(Although, I—personally—find it hysterical)

* * *

~ * ~

Chapter Twenty:

In which Bella Gets Stalled and a Poet Gets Called

~ * ~

Charlie, never one for many words, was at an utter and complete loss for words when he met me outside of the principal's office.

"_Bella_," he accused, and he really only needed to say my name in that _tone_ to let the accusation weigh. He was the Chief of Police after all, and I suspected that he secretly prided himself on following the Clint Eastwood silent-but-deadly model. Of course, this was only further edified by how his hand clutched his holstered gun.

"Yes, father?"

"Violence is an unacceptable form of behavior in a young lady."

I had to restrain myself from glaring at him. It was moments like these in which I understood why my parents had separated, because I'm pretty sure that Renee would have bushwhacked him with a fan of Forks ferns if she had been around to hear the words "unacceptable form of behavior" alongside "young lady." But then again, maybe at this point in his life Charlie couldn't help the "official speak."

I decided to be blunt.

"Dad, Tyler Crowley threw me in a closet and forced my hand on his male part."

My father's face stilled, and I couldn't help but notice his knuckles whitening as his hand clamped down on his fire arm.

"I'm going to talk to the principal," he growled, and then my father left me to sit and wait.

~ * ~

Having a father in the police force turned out to be a useful thing.

Useful, in that Charlie had to be _convinced_ not to arrest Tyler.

And when I really thought about it…

Tyler had to be a right dumbass to grope the police chief's daughter.

Like, dumbass enough, in my opinion, to _deserve_ two socks in the schnoz in the same day.

When Charlie and the principal emerged, they looked all chummy and proud of themselves, and I heard side mentions of fly-fishing and poker night, and for a minute, I was actually a bit worried. But then Charlie spoke the magic words.

"Principal Meyer understands the situation, Bella, but you're still going to have to serve detention."

_Bingo._

"Sorry to disappoint, dad," I replied as meekly as I could.

He didn't say anything for a minute, and I could tell he was weighing out various trains of thought, but then he finally spoke.

"I never asked. Is your hand okay?"

"Just fine, I kept my thumb tucked and everything."

My father looked down at me, and then he smiled, all crinkly-eyed.

"That's my girl," he said, messing my hair affectionately.

~ * ~

I arrived at detention five minutes early. Señora Goff walked in a few minutes later. Even if she always pronounced my full name, Isabella and tended to hug people more than I considered necessary, I liked her.

And more importantly, she liked me.

Edward walked in only a moment later. He stopped, and he stared at me, and I stared back. Our dumb, love-struck gazing was broken up Señora Goff.

"Ay, _Eduardo_, siéntate!

"Of course, Mrs. Goff."

She tossed her hand up dramatically, so as to signal her total lack of interest in all things high school.

"Okay, you two, fill out the attendance form for me. The rules are silence and compliance, so no talking—and no funny business. You two are good kids, well, normally, anyway, so I trust you two to follow them. Now, I'm going to run to the lounge and get a coffee, so sit tight."

She set down the clipboard on the desk in front of me and breezed out the classroom door.

And then Edward and I began our fervent whispering.

"Is it true? Please tell me you didn't really hit Tyler in the nose again?"

"Of course I did. He goaded me."

"Bella, you could have hurt yourself."

I stuck out my tongue at him.

He rolled his eyes.

But then I looked up at him from beneath my lashes. I was actually trying to be coquettish. "Are you really that sad that I'm here with you?" I murmured.

I was being too obvious, so he smirked and then he stuck his tongue out at me.

I tried to lick it.

But he stole it away.

I got his chin instead.

Oh, well.

I focused on sucking on his chin.

But then Edward had the nerve to push me away and scold me. "Bella, we're in _detention_!"

I gave him a definitively level look. "We're alone, and Señora Goff is wearing those psycho heels. We'll be able to hear her clicking all the way down the hall."

"Bella," he whined.

I think he meant for the whining to incite logic or reason or something.

But the whining just made me straddle his lap.

And straddling him seemed to have the effect, because Edward gave up on his stupid worries, groaning huskily as I settled myself. Thankfully, he dropped the façade and decided that he wanted to play, too. His hands found my waist, his lips met mine, and I felt a rather conspicuous hard-on through his jeans. And then the euphoria set in: the holy-fuck-I'm-kissing-Edward sensation that made me as lightheaded as it made me horny as fuck.

Since I wasn't allowed to stick my tongue in his mouth, I settled for tracing the outline of his lips, nipping on the fuzzy soft ends of his earlobes, and scratching my fingers through his soft hair, and Edward, all the meanwhile, kissed a line of kisses from my jaw to the base of my neck, while pulling my hips tighter against him, which in turn caused me to moan and him to grit his teeth.

And then the fucker grabbed between my legs.

Not that I should have been surprised.

But I gasped.

And his thumb pressed against me—right _there_.

"Edward…I…thought…damn—_detention_."

"What was that?" he teased.

But he kept rubbing.

And I could see the faint blue veins in his forearm clenching and unclenching as he moved his hand against me.

I couldn't feel it as well as I had this morning—I was wearing jeans, after all—but I could still fucking feel it. And the fact that I was very aware that this room was the very last place Edward should be touching me like this… it just made me all the wetter.

But then we heard the clicking.

And Edward's hand stopped moving.

I decided right there that I temporarily hated all women with loud shoes.

Because I had to pull myself out of Edward's lap.

And sit two desks over.

And cross my legs.

And be what Charlie would call a "proper young lady."

When Señora Goff strolled into the room, she was carrying a large thermos and a massive stack of magazines and papers. Not paying us any heed, she plopped down at her desk in the front of the room, and started flipping through the various publications.

I stared at the trigonometry assignment sitting on my desk.

Sinusoid proofs.

_Fuck me. _Not happening right now. The combination of Edward's side profile and the tense throbbing sensation between my legs were not permitting analytical thought.

So, I pulled out another piece of paper.

I drew an unhappy face.

And then a ring of flower petals around it.

With a stem and leaves for finishing touches.

I stole a peek at Goff—she was staring intently, slightly open-mouthed at whatever she was reading. Huh. Must be intriguing stuff. Either way, she wouldn't notice.

I held up my drawing for Edward to see.

Unhappy flower. I frowned, too. The flower and I, we were in sync.

Edward smirked, but then his eyes left the page and traveled down my body.

His green eyes looked intently at the lower half of me.

Which made me clench my thighs together.

Which he saw, so he smirked even more obviously.

_Cocky punk._

And I couldn't take it anymore, so I marched to the front of the room.

"Is it alright if I go to the bathroom, Señora?"

She didn't look up. She just waved her hand at me.

I scampered out of the classroom.

I headed to the ladies room. It was dead quiet as I made my way down the hall and pushed through the two sets of doors and into the restroom, the only real noises being my steps and the squeaking of hinges. When I looked into the mirror, my current state was rather obvious. I had flushed cheeks, reddened lips, and rather bright eyes.

I waved in the mirror.

_What's up horny Bella?_

I walked up to the first sink and tried to turn the right-hand faucet. The knob spun with no friction. Broken. So I turned the left one. A blast of steamy water flew out. I brought my finger forward to touch it but withdrew it immediately. Scalding hot, so I went over to the other sink. I turned the right-hand knob.

The cold water poured out.

Exactly what I needed right now, so I cupped my hands in order to splash my face.

But then I heard the voice behind me.

"Don't even think about it."

I spun on my heel.

But he had taken the steps and was already directly behind me, so that when I turned, I turned directly into his chest. His one hand caught my upper arm, steadying me while the other reached around to turn off the running water.

"Eh, Edward, you do realize that you're in a girl's bathroom, right?"

He ignored me, pressing me into the counter with his hips.

I had to bite back a moan, because the effect of his body pressing against mine was making me flustered and breathy all over again.

"Edward, we are in detention—it's not like Goff isn't going to notice…" but Edward kissed me to get me to shut up.

I started to push against his chest, so he broke the kiss to explain. "Axelrod poked her head in to get Goff to join her for a cigarette—she'll be out there for at least fifteen, twenty minutes. You know how they are…" and his voice trailed off because his mouth had found the crook of my neck, while his fingers were sliding along the top hem of my jeans.

I tried to bat his fingers away because this really wasn't the time or place—and really, there was always the possibility that someone could…

Edward grabbed my thighs and lifted me up against him, before carrying me to the back stall of the bathroom.

I had to acknowledge that being lifted and carried by nicely shaped biceps is hot.

And then Edward shoved me against the wall, letting my legs drop.

"I love you," he said.

I gave up.

I decided to let Edward get me off. Difficult decision, right?

I undid the top buckle of my jeans.

Edward found my zipper.

_Zip_.

A beautiful sound.

And then I shrugged my jeans down.

And Edward shoved my panties down.

And then he placed his hands in between my legs, and he bent his fingers just so.

I was already dripping as it was, so the rage of sensation began almost immediately.

The talented fingers rocked back and forth.

My body trembled. I couldn't help it so I spat out and groaned funny sounds that were almost words—but not—like "shEEzafuckincraPPers" or "gahOOOn" or "fuCKatosh," while my neurons crissed-and-crossed in one long, tangled tic-tac-toe.

And then Edward was pressing the heel of his palm against my clit, even as his fingers fiddled in and out of me.

In and out.

_Fuck._

I had to bite down against the soft cotton fabric covering his shoulder, because my weird little noises were building into something more.

Then Edward put his thumb on the trigger.

He twirled it in tight circles.

And the game was over.

I dug my nails into his back.

I buried a muffled moan into the crook of his neck.

When my muscles started to relax, I loosened my grip on Edward.

Happy sigh.

And then I went for his belt buckle, his jeans button, and then the zipper.

And we were kissing, mouths locked together, as he pushed his pants down, and then his boxers, so I wasn't looking even as my hand found his shape, and I gripped him.

Edward groaned at the contact, his neck falling back slightly.

And I looked down.

Eh, sorta shocking—a swallowed breath and a lot of blinking from me.

Like I wanted to say, "Hey, hello, there, I've only ever seen your kind in airbrushed pictures or on small practically unisex babies with nappy diapers, and now, dear goodness, you're right in front of me…"

And Edward was not small.

So all of this was very intimidating.

But of course Edward caught on. He understood the expression on my face before even I could process my thoughts or fears or desires.

So he kissed me.

And there was a tip of his…

Tongue.

Tongue. Tongue. Tongue.

Still, just the tip.

But it caused me to moan and sway.

And then he wrapped his hand around my hand and gently moved my fingers, repositioning them at a different angle and in different spots, and then he gently pushed our hands up and down on him, setting a rhythm.

I started to catch on.

After a moment, he pulled his hand away and braced himself against the wall behind him. I looked up at him for approval, to see if this was okay, if it was what he wanted, and he nodded back, his green eyes murky and heavily-lidded.

Pretty fucking hot.

So I got into it and relaxed, gripping his ass with my other hand as my mouth planted kisses across his chest.

And then Edward reached down and tried to touch me, too.

I had to bat his hand away.

_I was learning._

And then he tried to pull my free hand so that I would touch myself.

I had to slap his hand away again.

"Just you now," I soothed, and my voice was very low and husky.

Edward yielded and nodded, and I continued to focus on him, increasing the pace and pressure as I went. His breathing grew heavier and heavier, and stuttered rasps and groans started escaping.

And I realized I had no idea what to do about the final step.

"Edward, I breathed his name. "What do I do when you…?"

He nodded, understanding. His free hand pointed to the paper dispenser besides the toilet.

But I looked, and there was not any paper there, just an empty cardboard roll.

_We chose the one fucking stall with no tp._

And yet Edward's breathing was accelerating, small beads of sweat collecting at the very top of his forehead, and I knew that both of us would be loathe to stop things.

"Edward—no tp," I informed him, still keeping up my motions.

"We can move. I can…" he flapped a hand in the direction of the toilet.

"You'd _aim_?" I asked incredulously, and my voice didn't really hold back the uck factor.

I didn't know how to tell him that we were not at the point in our relationship where I was comfortable seeing him shoot any fluids into the john, spunk or otherwise.

And definitely not on the floor either.

Another mental _eww_. This was the fucking girls' restroom.

The lines in Edward's forehead were tensed, his lips parted, as he gasped and shuddered. "Bella," he whined, "what the fuck then should…?"

But he didn't get to finish, because the whining got to me again.

And because he had already given me the tongue tip.

And because I dropped to my knees, while still holding him steady.

I sucked him into my mouth.

His whole body tensed. It stopped. Froze. I started to wonder if I'd done something wrong, but then he let a long groan, followed by "fuck, warm—_Bella_—you didn't have to—holy…Umg…fuck—love you—amazing—love—_fuck_."

So I continued moving up and down on him, using mouth muscles that I'd never used before, and tasting his foreign yet still familiar flavor—and I was still meandering along the path of my own disbelief as I acknowledged that of all of the various sexual acts—I'd never fantasized about this one before. I hadn't. Yes, I had thought about it, but I'd never actually imagined it.

But I was enjoying it.

Because I was enjoying Edward. His reactions. His groans. His loss of control. I liked how he'd completely surrendered to me, and I was in control. I was giving him this.

And he just had to lie back and take it.

And then he really tensed.

His stomach muscle as well as the cock in my mouth.

And he muttered out something that sounded like "warn—you—gonna—."

But I gripped him harder.

Because that was the original point of this.

_No messiness._

_Just loveliness._

And then I felt the warm fluid shoot into my mouth.

I swallowed as quickly as I could.

Because it was a bit odd.

But sorta hot, too.

And then it was over, and Edward slumped down on the wall, so that his eyes were level with mine.

Just-sexed Edward—the hair, the flushed face—was a fine thing.

"I love you," he said.

I just smiled at him.

It was a very cocky smile.

~ * ~

Our round of detentions finished up that week.

And I was actually a bit sad.

But my drawings and our passing of notes did not. I was getting quite good at drawing flowers with the full range of emotion-y faces. Smiley. Frowny. Horny (always a winking devil). There was no doubt that Edward brought out my baser nature—even in my kindergarten-quality art sketches.

But in other ways, too, e.g. I started wearing skirts on my own volition. Alice teased me about this, but I ignored her because I was tripping on my own brand of first love and ever-present Edward fingers.

Edward fingers…

Edward played the piano for me and wrote me silly poems. Horny, dumb silly poems.

Which got me worked up.

Which brought out my "baser nature."

Which brought out his.

Which resulted in some untoward behavior in Biology class. So I actually found myself in detention again less than two weeks after the last one had finished up. I had to make a real effort to stop him from doing something to try and join me. I eventually convinced him to go for a run.

But, now, here I was.

And I was bored.

And so I started scribbling down silly-horniness, too.

Bella's Detention Drivel, No. 1

He fingered me in the parking lot.  
He stroked me under my desk.  
He rubbed his fingers 'round my clit.  
And what'd I cry? - "_Fuck_, YES."

Mr. Banner didn't understand  
He threw me in detention  
But I don't give a flying fuck  
'Cause Ed relieved my tension.

Up the tree and through the window  
My dear Edward came  
Talented fingers and ten minutes later  
And I did the same.

Said he'd play a melody.  
Laid me across his grand  
Right hand played the piano  
Leftie answered my demand

He fingered me on the bus  
He fingered me in his Volvo

Fuck me but I can't say no.  
So, on he goes.  
On we go.  
Oh. Oh. Ohhhh….

I set down my pen.

I gave a huff as I realized that I needed to go splash cold water on my face.

~ * ~

When detention was over, I headed straight home, knowing that Edward would be there soon.

I was almost gleefully looking forward to showing him my poem—because I knew it would make him laugh, but I also knew it would lead to other things… so I was flustered, and I had to find things to keep myself busy as I waited.

I hopped on my computer and began replying to emails from Renee—and Jacob. I still refused to physically talk to Jake—I was still irked with him—well, admittedly, not really, not anymore. I was a bit too happy to keep it up for much longer. I'd probably have to call him soon.

And he had saved gnome, who was sitting happily on my dresser.

I had just clicked the send button on Jake's email, when the phone rang.

I scrambled down the stairs to get it, thinking it would either be 1. Edward calling to tell me he was running late 2. Charlie asking what was for dinner or 3. Alice trying to bug me into shopping.

But it was none of those.

I picked up the phone, greeting "hello."

And then the voice spoke.

It was the voice I had never wanted to hear again.

~ * ~

* * *

~ * ~

You clever ones can probably guess which frayed plot thread is getting woven back in.

So, yeah, let me know...

Review!


	22. To Beet or Not To Beet?

Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to others. The waterfall belongs to me.

**_What I'm reading_:** So short story pimpery time, because some of the short stories out there are awesome but reviews are lacking. 1. _Wayfaring _by m'girl gallantcorkscrews 2. EVERY SINGLE STORY on Twilighted that is written by poppyandpeony but notably A Soul Feels Its Worth - her one-shot stories are fuck-me beautiful 3. for something fun and old school read _Vampiric Peaches_ by Llama Mama 23 because sometimes you need to laugh at the improbable (It's also improbably well-written). _Self-pimpery:_ I wrote a Back to the Future one-shot for Jayeliwood's movie contest, but here's my warning: I actually wrote paragraphs. *Gasp*

**Bidniz: **I want to give a special thanks to the Temptation Podcast - for pimping m'story—even if y'all giggled like crazy about Bella's jillin' off at the waterfall—although Caitlin's explanation made me laugh, too. So, everyone, the ladies at the podcast do good stuff. They discuss a fic in depth, answer emails, discuss trends in fanfiction, etc, so sign up to receive their show through iTunes or through the blogpage temptationtwilight(dot)blogspot(dot)com )

**AN: **So this chapter connects directly back to comments made by Bella in the war paint chapter as well as her reflections in a lot of the initial chapters. And you get to find out who the voice on the phone is. (Can you say bitch fight?) Most of you guessed wrong. Bah. But some of you (three) guessed right! Yay!!!!

This chapter is a fucking margarita as far as the limes go - so be prepared for the dip and dash in teenage kinky awkwardness.

* * *

~ * ~

Chapter 21

In Which Bella Answers a Question:

To Beet or Not to Beet?

~ * ~

"Bella," she said, and her voice was just the same: an affected, fake, babyish soprano tinkling.

My stomach roiled.

"Why are you calling me, Vicky?" I asked, my voice low and cold.

"Oh, just wanted to catch up," she sang.

"How the fuck do you have this number?" I demanded.

"I did used to call you with it," she replied.

"Funny, I seem to have burned that bit of information about of my memory," I retorted.

She babbled along like I hadn't said anything. "You know I heard Ms. Cartwright talking to another one of the teachers about you in the hall just the other day. She said she'd been talking to your mom. She was going on and on about how happy you were up in your podunk small town in Washington state—and that you had like a real "boyfriend" and everything. I heard all of this, and I just sat here and thought to myself, now that couldn't be true, Bella Swan having a boyfriend, could it?"

"Fuck off, Vicky," I spat.

"Ouch, Bella, that really hurts. Now maybe you should go rub off so that you feel better about yourself."

"Very nice, and how is James? Popped your cherry yet?"

"James and I are just fine, thank you, and I don't need to remind you that I'm waiting until marriage."

"Oh, I'm so very sorry," I fluttered sarcastically. "Pardon me for assuming that since he had shoved his dick in every other orifice in your body, you finally realized what a hypocritical whore you are."

"Still a foul-mouthed slut, I see, Swan. Why don't you go play with your little bunny rabbit now?"

"How's your mommy, by the way? You know, I know she won't use it, but you might consider getting her a Rabbit for Christmas. It'll give her knitpacking self something to at least think about while your father is out relieving his blue balls with the lot lizards at the RV park."

"Well, your mother…" but then she faltered. She faltered because even as much as horrible as she'd been to me, there had been a time when she loved my mother. She had loved my mother when she could not be loved by her own.

A strained moment of silence.

"I don't want to do this anymore, Victoria. Just don't call me," I muttered.

"Bella, I…" her voice trailed off, instantly losing its falseness and painfully reminding me of the friend that I used to love.

"Bye, Victoria."

I hung up the phone, and then I leaned forward, allowing my forehead to brace my weight against the wall. I wanted to pound my fists as much as I wanted to cry, because I had let her get to me again, and she got to me in way that no one else could. I knew why. It was because deep down I wanted to believe that there was some dumb, easily explained reason for the betrayal. I wanted to believe that all of the years of kindred spirits and best kept secrets had not been a waste, and above all, that I hadn't been an utter and complete fool.

I jumped when I felt hands fit around me.

"Bella," Edward soothed. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I replied lamely.

"Eh, Bella, I believe I just heard things like lot lizards, hypocritical whore, and then there was some mommy slapping coming out of your mouth."

I frowned up at him.

He kissed my mouth, and a smile sneaked onto my face.

"I suppose I've been clever with words today," I explained.

He looked at me questioningly, and I reached into my pocket to pull out my poem. He took it in hand, and he read it, smirking slightly as he read through the lines.

He looked at me appraisingly, a twinkle of lust in his eye, before shoving the poem in his pocket. "You're trying to distract me, and it almost worked. Who's Victoria?"

"A bitch from high school in Phoenix. What did you think of my poem?"

"I liked the poem. Why did she call you?"

"She wanted to know how sexy you were," I insisted. I pulled him against me.

"Is that why you told her that her father was whoring around on her mother?"

"Sorry, I'm a jealous girlfriend," I explained with a rueful face.

"Bella," he whined.

I growled internally, him and his fucking whining. He was crafty.

But I resisted.

"I'm going upstairs, Edward. I'm going to be sitting on my bed. Alone."

Edward made a face but nevertheless, he followed me up the stairs.

Like I knew he would.

As soon as the door was closed, we lunged toward each other. Our lips locked. Our hands frantically searched each other's bodies. Our legs tangled, even as we fell onto my twin-sized bed.

After a few minutes of kissing, Edward slid his hand under my shirt, but I pushed his hand away.

"Not yet, tongue first," I insisted.

"Bella, I told you where I was willing to put my tongue," he countered devilishly.

"Lovely, Edward, you're willing to put your tongue in my baby hole but not in my mouth," I chided.

"Bella," he groaned, "Who the hell calls it a _baby hole_?"

I raised my hand.

He rolled his eyes at me. "It's your _pussy_, Bella. It's your rosy, silky, wet pussy, and yes, if you want my tongue in you mouth, that can be arranged as well," he teased, even as his hands started attacking my jeans buttons.

"Edward," I whined, trying to bat his hands away somewhat ineffectually. I even tried to wrestle with him, but that effort failed sort of miserably, as he managed to pin both of my hands above my head. He managed to get the buttons and zippers completely undone and then grabbed my jeans and started to pull down.

It wasn't working that well since Alice had chosen these jeans. He would have needed a wall scraper and Glue-B-Gone to get them off without my help.

"Lift," Edward commanded, and even though I was a bit annoyed at his bossiness, I was also turned on by it, so I complied with a begrudged smirk and lifted my ass so he could tug my jeans off.

Then he pulled me to the edge of the bed, and he jerked me so quickly that I fell onto my back, and then he was kissing his way from my right knee forward along my inner thigh. I kept gently nudging him away, but he ignored me. When his kissing reached the very end of my thigh, he looked up me.

It was a sinful look.

And then he licked the center of my panties.

My whole body jerked, and I let out a gasp.

Edward was smiling up at me from between my legs. He looked especially smug.

"You can stop that now," I sighed.

He frowned at me. "And why would I do that?"

"I don't believe you want to do that."

"Do what Bella? Lick your pussy? I thought you liked licking?" He grinned and licked my panties again.

Another escaped moan.

"You're a strict vegetarian. I thought you didn't partake of animal products," I argued breathlessly.

"Are you saying you're an animal?"

"Well, duh," I muttered

"That's hot, Bella."

He started to pull the fabric down.

I grabbed at the fabric and stopped his hand.

"Let's have sex instead," I offered jokingly.

He starred at me for a second, amused.

But then he pushed me down.

"Sounds good to me," he said, and he pressed himself against me.

I huffed at him, although my breathing also picked up. "You can't stick your cock in me until you kiss me with tongue."

He laughed. "See, I knew this would happen if I called your bluff. Besides, I told _you_. I told you that I would work on the tongue thing extra hard if you'd let me lick you between your legs."

"You realize the incongruence, right? Like, generally the more dangerous body fluids are in between someone's legs?"

"Eh, sorry. I like your tongue on my cock, so I just know you'll like my tongue on your pussy," he stated confidently, and then he jerked down my panties.

I started to protest, but then he pulled my mouth to his, silencing me. Meanwhile his free hand moved in between my legs. A finger slid inside of me. My hips jerked, and I gasped, breaking contact with his mouth. His kisses moved downward then.

Along my neck.

Over my shirt.

And then, when it was lifted, under it.

A lick in the belly button.

And then a trailing of tongue from the naval to my right thigh.

I was almost incoherent, but I managed to whine out, "But what if it tastes bad?"

I got another eye roll.

And then Edward put his tongue between my legs. He licked it straight up my slit, and my eyes rolled back in my head.

I barely registered it when he said, "Your pussy tastes like liquid Bella sex—and that, my love, is pretty fucking fantastic."

_P-word—fuck, fuck, fuck._

He licked me again, and I moaned in response, falling back onto the bed.

Edward's hand reached around to grab my ass, and then he pulled me against him, keeping on a constant pressure, even as his mouth moved all around, sucking, licking, lapping, poking in and out and around and about, causing the tingles to shoot up, my hips to jerk, and a constant stream of gasps and moans and curses to spill out of my mouth.

Funny enough, laying back I found myself staring at my ceiling, which still had pastel stars and cartoon pony stickers from my youth. All in all, I decided the childhood view was a bit mismatched with the sensations aching between my legs.

So I changed views. I pressed up on my elbows, and I watched Edward.

Bronze hair.

Shameless green eyes.

Lewd. Seductive. Erotic.

I couldn't look away from the view of Edward's mouth against my body, even as my cheeks burned red from my looking.

He brought his fingers back, and began pumping them in and out of me while his tongue moved up to lick up and up and around the very top spot.

"Gah. Fuck. Oh!"

I found myself fisting my sheets and fighting against my own stomach muscles to keep my hips still while Edward's mouth clamped down on the clit, alternating between licking and sucking, as my moans grew louder and higher in pitch, and my body throbbed and pulsed and then just burnt.

And then one long "Ohhhhh," sang forth from my mouth.

I flopped back on my bed, unable to look at Edward or really anything, but instead staring up dreamily at my dancing pony and rainbow star ceiling with orgasmic wonder.

Edward, meanwhile, amused himself by shoving his head under my shirt and attacking my breasts.

It felt nice.

I really didn't care.

But then Edward started kissing his way up my neck, and I remembered my promise.

"I want your tongue," I declared.

"I don't know, Bella. I'm considering putting it back in between your legs again," he teased.

I think I growled at him.

"Seriously, Edward, my mouth has an unrequited love relationship with your tongue, and you keep fucking teasing my poor mouth, and then you go on and fuck my pussy with it, so now there's no turning back."

I tried to pull him towards me, but he resisted. Edward's mouth was turned up in a crooked grin. "So you think my tongue cheated on your mouth with your pussy? And now your mouth is willing to accept sloppy seconds?"

Sloppy seconds, indeed.

More like sharing Bella's pussy cum.

He thought he was being funny.

"Tongue. Mouth. Now."

Edward rolled his eyes.

"Fine, but first…" he pulled off his shirt, and then he pulled off my shirt, and then he undid his buckle, and I pulled down his zipper, and then he shrugged out his pants.

And then to my surprise, he pulled down his boxers, too.

And we were both completely naked.

My heart rate immediately skyrocketed because Edward and I had an unspoken rule about controlling our teenage impulses: only one person naked at a time.

Otherwise we were like teenage hormones magnets:

His cock just gradually edged toward my hole.

_Dangerous stuff._

"Edward?" I asked timidly, "Do we really need to be naked for you to stick your tongue in my mouth?"

"No," he answered eyeing me quizzically as he pulled me against him and kissed along my collar bone. "I just wanted to try something."

"It isn't sex, is it?"

He laughed against my neck, but then he peered at my face and sat up when realized I was actually a bit serious.

"No, I just wanted to try… rubbing. Rubbing against you."

"You mean dry humping," I corrected, a grin creeping onto my face.

Edward grimaced. "Sounds really hot when you put it that way, doesn't it?"

"Humping is the best word to describe how stupid people have sex."

"Very true," he agreed.

"So you want to dry hump me?"

"Right, well, we'll say dry sexing. Does that suit?"

"And I get the tongue, okay?" I confirmed.

"All of the above: love, tongue, and dry sexing."

I shrugged, feigning nonchalance.

Edward chuckled, and then he pulled my to him, nestling between my legs, before pressing his cock flat against my folds, and then he slowly moved up and down. And then his lips found mine, and we kissed and he set a rhythm, and I wanted to match it, so I shifted my legs, readjusting so that I could wrap my feet behind his firm ass.

Then he increased his rhythm.

And his tongue found my tongue.

Wet and slick yet textured and sweet with the faint remainder of "liquid Bella sex."

Our tongues touched hesitantly at first. Our mouths opened slightly, and his tongue dabbed at my tongue with the rhythm of his body stroking against mine, and my tongue responded eagerly but tentatively, afraid to push him too far, but then as his rhythm increased and his breaths grew more frenzied in my mouth, Edward's tongue relaxed against mine.

And we drank each other in.

And the sweet wine of his mouth was also mixed with a sweet sense of victory on my end.

But then I was more aware of our movements below, because while the pressure of his erection rubbing against me was nothing in comparison to his tongue or his fingers, the fact that we were one movement away from actual sex was thundering through my system with every stroke that he pressed against me. And then there was the occasional instance where his tip would catch slightly the edge of my entrance, which caused my body to tense every time.

And then I realized he was getting close, as his breathing came out in shorter and shorter breaths, and he pressed harder and faster against me.

He pulled up at the last second, tensing and releasing a long groan, as he spilled out and onto my stomach. He kissed me lightly and then rolled to the side.

My lower abdomen between my hips was speckled with white jizz.

Kinda like a birdbath.

Awesome.

And I was still really tense and really horny.

So I grabbed tissues from my bedside table, wiped myself off and handed some to Edward. Then I grabbed his free hand and shoved it in between my legs.

"Faaaah-uuuhck," I groaned, and I buried my head into Edward's shoulder as he took over and started moving his fingers in and out of me.

But then Edward's free hand grabbed my hand and attempted to push my index finger against my clit, while his other hand continued to flick a finger in and out of me below.

He wanted me to touch myself, but I pushed his hand away.

"Please, Edward," I gasped into his neck. "Just…"

And so he continued, matching his pace and his movements to the corresponding speed of my breaths and intensity of my moans until my entire body clenched and released, and then I sighed heavily against him, clutching him to me.

Edward sighed against me, kissing my temple and my hair and then the spot just behind my ear.

"I love you," he whispered into my ear.

So then I attacked him. A kiss on the nose. On both eye lids. On the top of his brow. On his eye brows. Underneath his jaw. On both nipples. A tongue in the bellybutton. A kiss on his hip bone.

"You can keep going," he encouraged, smiling down at me.

And I smiled happily because naked, horny Edward was a wonderful thing.

"I love you, too."

"Good, you can still keep going."

I snorted a laugh. "Charlie will be home soon. We need to get dressed."

Edward groaned, but he sat up.

So, we dressed.

And five minutes later we were in the kitchen, heating oil, crumbling feta, and pushing zucchini through the food processor to make fritters.

"Bella, can I ask you a question?"

"Mmmhmm," I answered, not really paying attention as I was trying to decide whether to make an extra side of roasted beets or mushroom pilaf.

"What happened with that Victoria girl in Phoenix?"

I frowned up at him.

"Bella, I love you. I'm your boyfriend and your best friend, but you rarely talk about your past."

"I love you, too, and you are my boyfriend and my best friend, but I do too talk about my past. I talk about my mom all the time," I countered.

"Bella," he groaned, and there was a hint of an Edward whine in the groan.

I frowned at him.

He set down the zucchini and pulled me against him.

"Talk," he commanded.

"Victoria is an ex-friend," I muttered reluctantly.

"You were close?" he pressed.

I sighed and contined to explain. "We bonded in first grade because we were both the palest little kids in our class. We both had to spend extra time putting on sunscreen before recess so we wouldn't fry to crisps under the desert sun—well, that and we were both prone to silliness. We thought we were both kindred spirits like Anne and Diana from Anne of Green Gables."

I had to fight a nostalgic smile before pushing it all away again.

"So what happened?"

"The simple explanation is that Victoria became Vicky, although its more complicated than that—her mom never liked me, her boyfriend liked me too much, and then she wanted to blend with the dumb bitches—and she went far to do it."

"What did she do, Bella?" Edward looked a bit pissed.

"Can we talk about it later?" I asked. There was nothing I'd rather talk about less.

"You promise?" he asked sweetly.

I nodded.

Edward kissed me, passionately, tongue and everything, making my head swim so that I forget about everything else.

But then we heard keys jingling outside the front door, and we broke apart.

Charlie came in, greeting hello. Edward returned to pulverizing zucchini, and I went back to determining whether to use the mushrooms or the beets.

Definitely the beets.

~ * ~

_Review or I'll beat you with a beet._

_:-P_

~ * ~


	23. Bella Yellow & Rabbit Too

_Disclaimer_: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

**AN:**

What I'm Reading: So, something I read recently that I liked was _I'm Gonna Bite You!_ by ahemyywe150. The banter is very wry, and you will chuckle. Also, _Cosmo's and Clueless_ by xdancefreakx always makes me smile—Edward is_not gay_ but Bella is under the misimpression that he wants to diddle Jacob. Funny stuff, that. So, go check 'em out.

Smuttiness: Another new blog out—The Perve Pack's Smut Shack. They have like six reviews per smut story. It's great—so you have a good sense of whether or not you'll like the story. Check it out: Pervpackssmutshack(dot)com – Also Ninapolitan put it all together – and her LMAO hotdog scene in the Bella Swan Diaries still makes me smile, so I *heart* her. I'll shut up now.

Limes ahoy! Because I can't let go of _**DTE **_and the_** p-word**_. Oh, and the cowboy and teddybear make an appearance. And Cap, you will not need to dry heave (for this chapter). And a'thanks to witvock for givin' Vicky some _class_ (hehe).

* * *

~ * ~

Chapter 22:

In Which Bella Is Yellow and the Rabbit Is Too

~ * ~

I had been rambling on about DNA splitting, when Edward threw me up against a locker again.

Edward liked throwing me up against the locker. It was like an inside joke between us—a very public inside joke—and every time he did it, it felt like he was taking vengeance upon all of the past wrongs committed upon his gentlemanly nature.

But the way he threw me against the locker…

And the way that his lips charged against mine…

I liked vengeance.

And ungentlemanliness.

Especially when accompanied by a prurient tongue.

And maybe also seeing Lauren-_my-nose-never-ends_-Mallory sneering at me from down the hall.

(Mental snicker)

We were interrupted this time, however, by the clearing of throats and the tap-tap, stomp-stomp of feet.

Edward pulled back from me.

Emmett and Jasper stood behind us.

Emmett was grinning idiotically and holding up two thumbs. Jasper, on the other hand, had the propriety to look somewhat abashed at causing the interruption.

I stared wrathfully at both of them.

Emmett blinked disconcertedly at my expression, before turning to Edward. "Bro, sometimes your woman is as scary as Rose."

Edward shrugged, even as he smirked slightly. "Tyler did require two additional rounds of surgery," he noted.

"_Bella_—means beauty in Italian, but also _war_ in old Latin. Bellatrix—goddess of war," imparted Jasper thoughtfully.

"Ooh, like the hot, evil chick in the _Harry Potter_," Emmett agreed. I was already staring at him incredulously, but then he threw his hands up in the air and boomed out, "_Bella, horida bella_!"

And now I stared at Emmett totally dumbfounded, because not only did I just realize that he knew _how to read_—but the dude goes and fucking quotes Virgil.

Edward saw my expression and rolled his eyes. "Don't be impressed, love. The quote is from too many hours spent numbing his brain cells at playing Rome Total War—and Emmett only read _Harry Potter_ because Rosalie bribed him with candy."

"Don't knock the _Rome_. It's historically accurate," Jasper complained.

"And I want a fucking Harry Potter number eight!" Emmett declared, before continuing on nostalgically. "Rose slipped me a jelly bean for every page I read, and every time I said '_Expelliarmus_!' the clothes, they just started to fall—"

"Sister! Emmett, my _sister_!" Jasper yelled.

"Aw, just 'cause Alice looks like a house elf, doesn't mean you have to—"

"Shut up—the both of you! They're _both_ my sisters!" Edward groaned.

"Now, Eddie," Emmett lectured. "Don't get all high and mighty now that you're the only one who's found some outside of the family."

"Oh, Emmett, don't be so hard on our brother—he's been much nicer this past month or so—not that we see him that much…" Jasper trailed off but grinned at me.

I frowned back at him. This conversation was embarrassing.

Edward was glaring at Jasper. Jasper immediately got the hint and backed down, but Emmett continued on. "Fuck, yeah, _thank God_. Bella, if you hadn't come along to pull the eggplant out of his ass, we were going to have to resort to either pruning shears or a hoe."

Edward made a move to thwack Emmett, but Jasper caught his arm and blocked him.

"Man, Eddie, you got your little nymph, why the temper?" Emmett jibed, smiling hugely, but still skipping back.

Edward side-stepped and then faked a lunge on Jasper, who missed it, so that Edward swung under his arm and managed to pop Emmett in the lower back. But then Jasper managed to get his arms around Edward again, although Jasper was also failing at swallowing his own laughter.

"_Fuck_! That was my kidney. I always forget how fast you are," Emmett groaned, while rubbing his lower back. "I thought you might have lost your edge since you haven't been running as much."

"You're being a bit violent, bro," Jasper acknowledged. "Maybe, you _should_ run more."

Edward rolled his eyes, grabbed my hand and started pulling us down the hall.

"Dude, do it for Bella's sake! She'll expect a man with good endurance!" Emmett's voice called.

Edward froze and then started to turn on his heel again, but I gripped his hand, and he stopped. I pointed to Mr. Banner who was making his way down the hall, staring fixedly at the Cullen boys. "Please, no more detention," I begged.

Edward looked down at me and then his face relaxed.

"Alright…"

~ * ~

Per usual, Renee wanted to talk to Edward.

"Give him the phone, dear! I have something I want to ask him."

"Mom, _no_. Leave Edward alone!" I groaned into the receiver.

"Oh, Bella," she sighed. "Edward _likes_ talking to me."

"He's a polite boyfriend."

"I may be almost over the hill, but I'm still fun to talk to! Now, Bella, hand Edward the phone!"

But then Edward swiped the phone out of my hands. I tried to grab it back, but he deftly avoided me.

"It's nice to _finally_ talk to you again, Renee," Edward spoke with exaggerated frustration into the phone.

I heard my mother's answering laugh.

I threw my hands up in exasperation, giving up any hope of ever getting the phone back. Renee always seemed to talk Edward's ear off, and oddly enough, he always let her. To amuse myself in the meanwhile, I went about cleaning up my room. Gnome got his rosy nose scrubbed and his hat properly dusted—a pat on the head, too. My bed got made. I tossed shirts, shoes, and the errant sock (as well as the occasional article of Edward's) into the hamper. One sock was stuck beneath a pile of boots in the corner. I tried to tug it out, but it was caught.

So I yanked.

And it came out.

It was heavy because it was my "Rabbit sock."

I felt my face redden, even as I quickly tried to duck it behind my back, because I realized Edward could probably see what it was.

But then I heard him begging Renee's forgiveness as he said goodbye.

"Thanksgiving, it is," he said before clicking off the phone.

And then he turned and fixed his gaze on me.

"Give it to me," he ordered.

I played the innocent. "What?"

My hands were still behind my back when he stepped towards me.

I stepped back.

But then I met the wall.

"I said give it to me."

I shook my head and tightened my arms behind my back. The shy, mortified little girl in me did not want Edward to win this little contest—and definitely did not want him to see my Jill-off toy in the open air—but then there was the other part of me…

The happy little flower leaking nectar down below

—that wanted him to come and get me.

Edward's knee pushed in between my legs even as his lips found my neck and his palms groped my breasts.

My eyes rolled back in my head, and his firmness and warmth rendered my body a soggy pancake against the wall.

Eh, yeah, so game over.

_Before it even started._

So there should have been no surprise on my part when one of my hands left its grip on the sock to pull Edward closer to me.

He took advantage.

Edward's hand reached around and snatched my bulky sock away. I tried to seize it back, but just like with the phone, he adroitly avoided my attempts. Then, with little effort, Edward flopped us both on my bed, covering my body with his, while he unsheathed the Rabbit.

So there it was.

My vibrator.

The yellow jackrabbit.

(or should it be called a Jill Rabbit? Probably, depended on the model)

The little bunny part bobbing sportively for all to see.

I turned an irate stare on my far too appealing boyfriend.

"I'd been wondering where this went," he brightly informed me.

"I retired him in favor of your fingers."

"Oh, Bella," he teased. "That was most unkind."

"You told me I had to retire the gnome," I pointed out.

"The gnome beheads lawn pinwheels while you sleep."

"Not true. And besides, he's had a pissy life."

"Dogs peeing on him does not earn him the get-out-of-jail free card."

"Well he has had to painstakingly watch his ex do dirty things with her purty new boyfriend, so I conclude he deserves some sympathy."

"I wouldn't worry about it, Bella. Gnomes are voyeurs by nature."

"Says the Peeping Tom."

"I won't deny it, and I want to see you do it again. Like right about now sounds hot, actually."

He held up the Rabbit.

I stared up at his smug little face, waiting for him to withdraw his statement.

He didn't so I yelled.

"No!"

"Bella," he whined petulantly.

"No," I growled.

He hit me with the full force of his disappointed green eyes.

_Disorienting_.

So a head wiggle had to suffice for my counter argument.

Edward pursed his lips, appearing quite vexed.

_Spoiled brat._

He wasn't used to not getting what he wanted.

"Alright, then I'm using it on your superbly splenderific pussy," he informed me.

My scandalized expression was only wiped away when his hand grabbed under my skirt and tugged at my panties, while his eyes scrutinized the device in front of us.

He pointed. "Ears, clit—cock part, g-spot, right?"

I narrowed my eyes at him, although I suspect there may have been a twinge of a smile that betrayed my expression.

Edward nodded airily, as if he expected this.

"You would have told me if I was in error," he discerned.

And then he turned it on.

I thought about protesting again, because I had the general opinion that one should not be assaulted by her own vibrator without express permission and discussion beforehand, but then I gave up and decided that as long as Edward was doing it, I might as well enjoy myself, because even if using Rabbit involved comparatively little effort on my part compared to my fingers—it would still be a different experience to have Edward use it on me.

So, I settled for running my fingers along his jaw as he carefully brought the Rabbit under my skirt.

I felt a jolt of surprise when he finally pressed it against me.

He moved it gently up and down between my legs.

I responded by burying my head beneath his arm and breathing harshly into his side.

And then Edward pulled it back and ran his finger up and down my slit. "Fuck, Bella, your pussy is so wet," he groaned, as he returned the Rabbit to its former movements.

And then he gently pushed the head of it just inside of me. The penetration sent a jolt up my middle.

I moaned.

And then he brought it out again and rubbed my wetness up around my clit, causing my hips to jerk.

And then he returned the head to my entrance. I moaned again, and he pushed it deeper inside of me.

In and out.

My knees bent and unbent. My breathing escalated.

But I realized that my hands were free.

So I slide my hand into Edward's track shorts. Easy access, those.

I drew him out.

He gasped, and his movements on me temporarily slowed. He helped me by pulling his bottoms off the rest of the way.

And then my hand worked him up and down, while he pushed the Rabbit in and out of me.

Lazy, half-assed kisses were exchanged, as we were both more focused on our actions on the lower parts of our bodies.

But then he started using the bunny ears.

Against my clit.

Which meant that the cock part of the device was plunging deeper into me.

And keeping my steady movements on Edward was becoming more difficult.

And then he clicked the vibrator up on notch.

So things were hopping.

I was moaning.

And my body tensed and released. Then, it did it again, but more intensely.

I cursed.

And Edward had the ears pressed firmly down on my clit, pulsating incessantly.

And another wave hit.

I gave a long high-pitched moan into Edward's chest.

_And thus, Bella goes down the rabbit hole._

_Off to wonderland._

I lay there dreamily.

But then I felt Edward's hand fit over my hand, which was now only loosely groping him.

I had been neglectful.

And I was currently feeling the need to be as generous as possible.

So I pushed his hand away, and I took him into my mouth.

I think I had only gotten a dozen solid strokes on him when he came, gripping my hair and groaning my name.

And then we curled up together. Edward stroked my hair, gently kissing it, and I nuzzled into the crook of his neck, sighing contentedly.

"I love you," I murmured.

"You're beautiful when you come," he replied.

"That's not 'I love you.'"

"It's one of the many countless reasons that I love you," he murmured, and he kissed my hair again. "But I am serious, Bella, you look fucking beautiful when you come."

I sat up and eyed him speculatively. "So just how many women have you seen come, voyeuristic lover of mine?"

"We have broadband," he shrugged.

I gasped. "You watch porn!"

"Would it make you feel better if I told you I don't watch it anymore?" he asked hopefully.

"You watched _porn_," I repeated.

"Would it make you feel better if I told you that if I still watched it, I would now watch the ones with kissing, too?"

I threw my head back and groaned. "You watched videos with kiss-less fucking?"

"Not kiss-less, just tongue-less," he amended.

I stared dumbly at him.

"It is perfectly healthy for me to watch porn, just like it is perfectly gorgeous for you to use the rabbit-cocky thing to get yourself off."

"Is this some sordid argument to get me to watch porn with you?"

"No—although watching it with you would be hot—I was trying to explain to you that you are beautiful when you come."

I eyed him speculatively. "My face gets all scrunched up and weird—I don't see how that's beautiful."

"You don't _scrunch_, Bella—you just look… really _intense_—and fucking beautiful," he insisted.

I kissed him because it seemed like the right thing to do, and he tasted delicious, so I started to deepen the kiss, but Edward pulled away. I almost protested, but Edward had a very contemplative expression on his face.

"Bella, why won't you touch yourself in front of me?"

I frowned at him. "Is that a requirement?" I asked.

"Well, you did insist upon my tongue," he teased.

"That's different."

"I guess, but it's not like you don't do it when you're alone."

"Didn't do it alone," I corrected.

"You see that's what I mean," he pointed.

"What?" I had no clue what his point was.

"You—I don't know, Bella—you act—_ashamed_ about it."

"I'm embarrassed, so what?"

He looked down at his hand. "But it's around me. You shouldn't be. I love you," he whispered.

And he really did.

But I didn't know what to say because there was a big pot of bad history, and I didn't really want to deal it out.

"And it doesn't make sense that you would even feel that way. Your mom is pretty…" he trailed off.

"Liberated," I finished his sentence for him.

He nodded, but then he looked at me expectantly. Apparently, I was supposed to keep talking.

"I don't like calling attention to myself," I muttered.

"Uh, Bella, you make a point of calling attention to yourself with me," he countered.

I did publicly lick him an awful lot…

I huffed and turned away from him.

"Bella," he whined.

So I spit it out.

"Sophomore year Vicky told the entire school."

"Told them what?" he pressed nonplussed.

I sighed, but then I blurted it out, "She put posters around the girl's locker room: Bella Swan masturbates."

"So?" Edward asked, clearly not getting it.

I gave another exasperated sigh. "My school in Phoenix was a weird mix—the kids of oil execs, Bible belt conservatives, desert bohos, and the Latin contingent, and Vicky had the distinction of being the daughter of the lead minister of the largest church in the city. A quarter of the kids in my school went to her church, and even if they were privately rubbing off to their heart's content—they didn't want to publicly come off on the wrong side of Virtuous Victoria. Also, she had new friends, and her D&G worshipping and Coach toting "posse" was only too happy to laugh their asses off about it."

"But you said she had been your friend…" Edward was rubbing circles into my palm, although he looked mad again.

"There was an incident," I muttered.

"Go on," he appealed.

"Victoria knew about the Rabbit," I explained, frowning at the memory. "In fact, she told her boyfriend about it."

"What an excellent friend."

"Eh, well, her boyfriend—James—he was—no, _is_—a total asshole, but she was so "in love" with him for the mere reason that he was popular and paid attention to her. She would do anything to please him."

"Like the orifice thing from the phone conversation?"

"Yeah, anywhere except the v-hole," I muttered. "You know sometime I wonder if that's the only reason he's still around her. It's like a fucking game to him. I know he cheats on her. I even think she knows. I swear to God that the second they have real sex—he'll be gone."

"So what was the incident with James?"

I closed my eyes. "James took the knowledge of the Rabbit to mean that I was looking to get some."

"You've got to be fucking—"

"—like I said, he's an ass."

"And he's the one that threw you up against the locker," Edward finished for me. Now, he looked positively furious.

"Calm down—he just sort of slobbered on my closed mouth and chin—but then Victoria came in."

"She saw us."

"You mean she saw him, attacking you."

"Yes."

"But she blamed you?"

"You got it."

"That's fucked."

"Teenage girls are vicious and mean—especially over boys. Your sisters are shining exceptions—well, them and Angela Webber."

"I love you, Bella."

"I love you, too."

"I want to punch, James."

"Well, lucky you won't get the chance."

"That's not necessarily true."

I rolled my eyes, "What are you going to do, make an express trip to Phoenix for a throw down?"

"No."

"Good."

"But I am coming home with you for Thanksgiving."

~ * ~

* * *

And oh, yeah, _review_!

(because it brightens my day)

~ * ~


	24. Bella Juice x 3!

_Disclaimer:_ Smeyer's gots the gire and gimble. I'm just in the wabe.

**AN:** I haven't been reading much new stuff lately, cuz I've been writing.

So, music for this bit: _Madonna_: Express Yourself (youtube). Cuz it's too perfect.  
Bleh, I break all promises. This story is as fickle as the white rabbit. Come play on the forums at Twilighted(dot)net.

* * *

~ * ~

Chapter 23

Bella Juice! Bella Juice! Bella Juice!

~ * ~

Alice had my toes locked in some spongy contraption reminiscent of one of those old stockades used to humiliate the village drunk on the town green.

At least that's how my tootsies felt: pilloried and woozy from nasty, toxic nail polish odor.

Alice was painting them baby pink, while Rose spread poop-colored muck on my face.

Yep, I said poop-colored. If I hadn't participated in the chopping, cooking, and blending of the ingredients—there would have been no way in hell that I would have permitted such a concoction to come near my pores. Fortunately, I knew that the mask consisted of clay, avocado, honey, cornmeal, and lavender oil, so even though it looked like horse shit, it smelled floral and fancy-free. After Rose finished the application, she plopped two cucumber slices over my eyelids.

I was officially girlified, "Cullen-style."

"So, Bella…" Rose trailed off suggestively.

I lifted a cucumber. "So, 'Bella what'?" I asked suspiciously.

Rose pressed a finger back down over my cucumber, blocking my view.

I heard giggles.

"So, how are things with our brother?" Alice asked.

"Which one?"

_I was not going to make this easy._

"Edward, clearly. Now _spill_," Alice snapped, frustrated.

"Things are spiff," I answered.

"So, did he fuck ya yet?" Rose asked.

I sat up, and both cucumbers fell out of my eyes.

"And just how is that any of your affair?" I demanded.

I would have been red-faced had I not been poo-faced.

I got twin eye rolls, and then Rose turned to Alice. "See, I told you she did."

"No, they haven't. We would have been able to tell."

"Stop being a know-it-all, Alice. She's defensive 'cause she gave up her v-card."

Alice turned to me in an insolent huff, "So, have you?"

"No, we have not," I muttered. I returned my cukes to my eyes and stiffly laid back.

I heard the tinkling of Alice's laugh.

"How do you guys talk about this anyway? Doesn't talking about your brother's dick trip you out at all?"

"When you fuck your step-brother, you get over that sort of thing," Rose assured offhandedly.

I wrinkled my nose, and I felt some of the dried mask crumble off.

"So when are you going to do it? Tonight at Homecoming?" Alice asked, and even though I couldn't see her, I could tell she was bouncing in her seat.

"Uh, no. And just why exactly do you think we're ready for that?"

Rose gave a delicate sniff. "Besides the fact that you mouth-rape one another in the hallways, there's how he now only plays happy shit on the piano. Then, you probably don't know this, but Samantha shoved her ass up against him in P.E. yesterday—"

Cukes and dried bits of lavender clay went flying as I sat up in a fury.

"—she did what?!" I screeched.

Rose waved her hand dismissively. "No, Bella, that's the thing—Edward backed away from her, but when she grabbed his arm, he pushed it off and asked her to 'please desist' in a firm, confident way."

I pursed my lips, still fuming.

_Good boyfriend._

But Samantha was going to feel the prickly-prick of a small pile of tacks on her chair when she'd least expected it.

"Oh, Bella, drop it," Alice insisted, before hitting me with a grin. "We already took care of it. She is always trying to take my flyer position on the team—and so yesterday we _let_ her."

"_Ker-plop_!" Rose imitated, throwing her hands up in imitation.

They both laughed.

"That's pretty ruthless, you guys."

"We did not let her fall _hard_—just a plop on her cushy ass so she'd be too sore to think about putting it anywhere near our brother."

"How considerate," I deadpanned.

"By the way, Bella, I need to talk to Renee," Alice informed me.

"Eh, why?"

"I need to know where she finds her yellow paraphernalia," she stated.

I raised an eyebrow at her.

I heard Rose sigh. "She means your _Rabbit_, Bella. Alice hankers after the canary brilliance of your fur fanning tool."

"I don't understand why they only have IPod colors available for online shipping. You'd think people would want flesh tones," Alice insisted.

"But of course, Alice," I mocked. "Oh, and Rose what color do you prefer?"

"She can't have one," Alice piped.

I turned to stare at Rose. "Emmett won't let you?" I asked incredulously.

Rose sniffed. "No, it's just not worth it. Emmett reacts strongly to the presence of toys—and if they are electronic…" she shuddered.

Alice nodded along. "It's the same reason he's not allowed to buy food for himself or own a puppy—Emmett needs no additional stimulants."

"No, he does not," Rose murmured smugly.

"Ew, Rose, don't make that face. I was just talking about _puppies_," Alice groaned.

Rose shrugged. "What? My man has a fine dog."

"Psh! And that's why you own a Venus Vibrance razor," she countered.

"Oh, whatever, Emmett has away games for football, and at any rate, he actually believes I use it to shave." Another shrug.

"Wait! You use a razor?" I asked fearfully.

Alice and Rose both rolled their eyes. "You pop the razor part off, silly," Alice explained.

"Very clever marketing there. They say it's for a 'silky shave,' but…" Rosalie trailed off suggestively.

"More like o-waves in the bat cave," Alice finished.

"Bella, _why_, you look uncomfortable," Rose laughed at my pursed face.

"You'd better not be! Because you're bringing me back a yellow hopster from Phoenix—and I'm calling your mother to ensure this."

"I'm ready for my dress now!" I exclaimed.

Rose rolled her eyes, but Alice clapped and went off to grab the dress.

Rose gave me a damp wash cloth.

I wiped the caked, brown muck off my face.

~ * ~

_We were stretched across my bed, barefoot and clutching our stomachs as we howled with laughter. _

_Victoria wore a dress, a simple cotton print, well-tailored and embellished with slightly puffed sleeves and a ruffle of lace around the neck. It was an inch shorter than school dress code allowed—but she got away with it because no teacher would dare ask her to do the 'arms test.' If she got a questioning look, she informed the teacher that her mother had made the dress from scratch. This caused all of the female teachers to coo, while all the male teachers used it as an excuse to eye her appreciatively._

_The funny thing was that she had bought the dress from a thrift shop, although no one would have ever guessed but me._

_I picked up the Rabbit, a piece of plastic packaging material still dangling off the side._

_I turned it on._

_My hand wiggled._

_We looked at each other._

_We both burst into hysterical laughter again._

_We were still laughing when I heard the knock on the door._

_I shoved the vibrator under my pillow, and yelled, "Come in!"_

_For some reason, Victoria and I started laughing hysterically again._

"_I baked!" my mother exclaimed as she danced into the room with a small paper plate filled with circular, bread-like objects._

"_Thanks, Renee!" Victoria replied, pulling a 'cookie' off the plate. She just held it in her hand, though. She didn't eat it. I did the same. _

_Mom plopped on my bed._

"_And how are my Princesses Snow White and Ariel this afternoon?" My mom asked, kissing me on the forehead and affectionately ruffling Victoria's auburn tresses._

"_Still under the sea," Victoria answered happily._

"_As pale as a corpse," I followed._

_My mom smiled. These were our normal responses._

"_So, Bella showed you her new vibrator, didn't she?" My mom asked cheerfully._

_Both Victoria and I blushed, but Victoria nodded._

_My mom laughed at us._

"_Well, if either of you dears have a question, you know you can always come to me, right? And Victoria, if you want me to pick up one for you, just say the word, okay?"_

"_Mom," I whined. "You know her mother would shit a brick if she found it, and besides," I gave Victoria a wink, "somebody has a boyfriend," I sang._

"_Victoria!" My mom huffed. "Am I the last to know?"_

"_He's…"_

"_Hot," I filled in for her._

"_And pop-you-larrrrr," she joked._

"_And in your youth group, too," I added with false seriousness in my voice._

"_So mom is happy," Victoria finished with a wave of the hand._

"_Ooh, is he romantic?" my mom urged excitedly._

_Victoria wrinkled her nose. _

"_Uh, not really."_

_I laughed. James talked about sports, stocks, girls, and himself. And not much else._

_My mom frowned. "Victoria, just remember to wait for the right person, dear. It's worth it."_

_Victoria gave an empty laugh, and then took on her mother's nasal tone. "Don't let him have it, dear. Once it's gone, it's gone—and he'll drop you like a sack of potatoes, unless you're married, of course."_

_My mom frowned, "You know that's not what I meant, Victoria."_

_Victoria smirked if a bit sadly. "I know."_

_Renee pulled her in for a hug. "You deserve the best—the both of you—and whoever is lucky enough to win your perfect hearts, if they're really worth it, then mind-body-heart, they all become one, you know that, don't you? And even if you did share your body with someone, that doesn't mean this," she touched Victoria gently on the nose, "is any less valuable."_

_Victoria didn't say anything, but she smiled softly under my mom's determined expression._

_Renee patted us both on the head, and then sighed, "Okay, you two, back to your giggles."_

_She gave us both a smile before exiting my room._

_I made the mistake of biting into my "cookie" then._

_And then I spat crumbs all over the floor._

_Victoria laughed and then stuck out her tongue to taste the edge of the cookie. "Ugh, Bella," she groaned, swallowing in exaggeration as she pretended to clean her tongue with her teeth. "I think she switched the salt and the sugar this time."_

_I nodded. "Well, at least I didn't crack a tooth this time."_

_She laughed. "It's a good thing she is dating that dentist."_

_I rolled my eyes. "Not anymore. The dentist yelled at a blind person for walking too slowly last weekend, so mom dumped him."_

"_Did he not see the white cane?" Victoria asked incredulously._

"_Actually, she said he was too busy examining the man's teeth to notice."_

_Victoria groaned. "Your mom needs to avoid all postal workers and dentists."_

"_She's dating a baseball player now."_

"_Nice, is he hot?"_

"_Victoria, ew."_

"_Sorry, you know I have daddy issues," she joked._

"_Stop now."_

_She stuck out her tongue. I returned the gesture. We both laughed._

_And then Victoria reached under my pillow and pulled out the Rabbit._

"_So you gonna use this?" she asked shyly. _

_She was serious._

_I looked down at my hands. "Eh, why not, right? I told you about the waterfall experience, right? And I'm a normal girl…I get…feelings."_

_She laughed again, giving me a shoulder shove._

"_Oh, Bella, we all get "feelings," she teased. "So how does this even work? I mean, it's a big, old, plastic cock with under-gills."_

_I snorted. "They're not 'under-gills.' Those are the bunny ears."_

"_Uh-huh," she replied. "So the penis part goes up the chute, but what do the ears do?"_

_I rolled my eyes. "They're to stimulate the clit."_

"_The clit is separate?"_

"_Uh, yeah."_

"_Oh, well, like where is it?" she asked. Her eyes were wide._

_I groaned. "It's above the pee hole."_

"_For real?"_

"_Why do I have to be your sex ed teacher?"_

"_Hush, Bella, you're my best friend in the whole wide world. Now is it here?" she asked breathily. _

_She put her hand down in the crease between her legs._

_I looked on, red-faced._

"_Victoria!"_

"_You didn't answer my question?"_

_I looked again._

"_A little higher," I muttered._

"_Oh," she said. "And that's how you get off?"  
_

"_Not all of us have a boyfriend to attend to them," I mocked._

_She rolled her eyes. "We haven't even kissed yet, Bella."_

"_Well, you know that I haven't kissed anyone either," I retorted._

"_Bella," she asked slowly. "Do you wonder what it's like?"_

"_Sure, I do."_

"_I do, too." She gave me a sidelong glance._

_I rolled my eyes. "Victoria, I'm just waiting for the right person to find out."_

"_Yeah…" she trailed off. _

_And then she laughed emptily. "I guess it will be James for me."_

_A moment of silence passed._

"_So, you're going shopping with us this evening, right?" she asked encouragingly._

_I gave her a level look. "That would mean spending time with tall Laura the Whora—and she hates me. Besides, it's not like I can afford the boutique clothes."_

"_Laura is a dumb snob—but you'd be with me," she urged._

"_You'll probably be making out with James," I muttered._

"_Uhhhhh, we'll see," she grimaced and shrugged._

"_Hey, I thought you were excited for your first kiss!"_

_She looked at me and sighed. "Please come," she begged._

"_I stay safe in the Shire. Go forth Frodo on your own, and safeguard the ring, but beware Laura the Ent."_

"_Oh, Bellllllla," she groaned._

"_Hey, you're the one who came up with that."_

"_Shut up."_

"_Okay."_

~ * ~

Edward and I stayed at homecoming for about ten minutes.

Ten minutes was long enough for me to clip him in the shin with my three-inch heel.

_Asswipe shouldn't have tried to dip me._

Ten minutes was also long enough for Jessica to come bouncing up to Edward and me with Mike on her arm. She had started talking to me again only a week before. This was after Mike asked her to the dance.

"I know the vote! I know who won!"

"Won what?"

Jessica's jaw dropped in shock. "Bella, your boyfriend is the junior king!"

Edward frowned.

"Who's the queen?" I tried to ask politely, but apprehension crept into my tone.

"Lauren," Mike said.

I spun on my heel.

I almost fell.

But Edward caught me.

"We're leaving," I declared.

He glanced over across the gymnasium floor to where Lauren was locked in suction-face with Tyler.

Edward shuddered, and then he nodded.

"We're leaving."

We left.

~ * ~

Twenty minutes later we were in the back of Edward's Volvo, and his hand was up my skirt. He also kept trying to shove his face down there, too.

Yet, as cute as his bronze head looked down there, now was not the time.

"Collared shirt! Collared shirt! Suit jacket! Edward you're going to get Bella juice on your lapels!"

"But you drank my juice, so why don't I get the Bella juice?" he argued, but then he laughed. "Bella Juice… That reminds me of Beatle Juice, you know?"

"Don't compare my girl nectar to that show," I growled even as my breathing accelerated. His fingers were doing miraculous things down below.

"Bella juice! Bella juice! Bella juice!"

Uh…

_No_.

I pushed him away, but he pushed back and found my lips and kissed me, before pulling back again to grin at me.

"But, Bella, I was waiting for us to get chased by gigantic sand worms."

"Edward. STOP. There is only one giant worm in this car."

"Giant, really? I appreciate that."

"You're welcome. Now put your fingers back."

He did.

His arm bent, and he slid his hand under the blue fabric, along my thigh, and up against me.

His lips lightly feathered against mine, and his green eyes held mine, a mischievous glint playing in them.

So I should have expected it when I felt his finger pop back into me.

But I was distracted. I was too focused on how adorably cocky he looked when he smirked that way.

So I gasped and tensed as I felt his finger move in and out of me. And when I opened my eyes, his wide grin should not have surprised me—or how he smug he looked.

_Little fucker did that on purpose._

So I retaliated by biting his bottom lip—just enough so that he would feel it.

He bit back.

And so my teeth let go, and then his tongue chased the outline of my lips, and mine tried to follow his, but his tongue pushed it back in, and then he just sucked on my lips.

And his right hand—two fingers now—pushed in and out. And I was tense and breathless.

And the tongue and lips were making me even tenser and wetter, and then his left hand gripped my side and his thumb rounded my breast through the sheer fabric of the dress, pressing a gentle trail of prints along the curve.

And my breath wheezed in gasps, and so Edward pressed the heel of his right palm into me, circling harder, and faster.

And then I really tensed.

And a series of staccato moans popped out of my mouth.

My hips pressed against his hand, and my lips sought his lips, and I drank him in while the waves of tingly sweetness rushed over me.

"Fucking beautiful, he whispered.

And then he nuzzled his face in my hair and breathed quietly against my neck.

I lifted up, and I gazed into his eyes.

"I love you. And soon."

His eyes searched mine. "I love you, too, and soon what?"

"You should make love to me."

"Okay."

"Good."

~ * ~

* * *

(hehehe)


	25. Sharing Is Caring

_Disclaimer:_ Twilight ain't mine. I play.

_Newsyness:_ I'm a columnist! I wrote an article on Saturday for _The Discerning Ficster_ blog on Story Promo. Go check it out. Link on m'profile.

_What I've Been Reading:  
_So, the Tempation Twilighted Podcast (which y'all should check out if you haven't already) did a brief bit on _The Djinn_ which is one of my favorite short stories on FF - now you all have got to go check out eroticfan's piece _Poetry in Motion_. Bella has a poetry fetish. There is an epic poetry showdown in which Edward must wax poetic in order to win her heart back. It's awesome. It's complete. It's smuterific, too, and she writes some of my fave stuff in this category. And it really bothers me that she has like so few reviews on FF, because her writing is endless fun. So, my porny poetry lovers, go read and review her!

Also, as part of my blog work, I recently decided to hit the FF "Twilight" roll to see if I could find any completely undiscovered stories. This is a bit odd for me because I have a ridiculously long list of crap I want to read. After fifty clicks or more, I finally found _Closing Time_ by DaniBek - a drunk Bella falls asleep on Edward at a party. The relationship begins. And oh, my favorite scene involves the opening of the "special insert" section of Cosmo. Too cute. Made me LOL. Check it out. It's a collab, and they're brand new.

As for what's below... No comment.

* * *

~ * ~

Chapter 24:

In Which the Sharing Is Caring

~ * ~

The topic of pollinating Bella's _flower_ was avoided at first. Edward and I were both nervous—though decided, but also, not stupid, so we knew that if we were to behave as proper adults, we had to discuss things.

A phone call with Renee punctuated this point.

"So how are things with Edward?" she asked cheerily.

"Good."

My mom could read me, and apparently my answer didn't "fit."

"Bella, did something happen with Edward? Is something wrong?"

"What? Why would something be wrong? Edward's great. I'm great. We're great."

"Ooooooooo-hoo-hoo-hoo!" she tittered conspiratorially.

"What? Why the ooh-ing?"

"My little girl's done the diddly with her dapper swain!"

"Oh, God. Mom, NO. We have not—not yet—I mean... Oh, fuh—fine. School's fine." I groaned miserably at my own failure to remain cool.

The only response I heard was a roar of laughter bursting through the receiver of the phone.

"Mom…" I groaned.

More laughter. A soft thudding. It was remarkably easy to visualize her pounding the floor with her fist while tears of mirth flowed down her cheeks.

"Mom, this is not funny. I'm going to hang up if you don't…"

"Bella, oh don't be—" she gasped out. She laughed again. She finally took a deep breath and gained control. "I mean, don't be that way. Now just promise me that you'll use proper protection."

"Uh, mom, aren't you supposed to yell at me or something or tell me that we're too young?"

"Do you think I'm stupid enough to think you'll listen to me?"

"I, uh…"

"And Lord knows, if I was your age with a boy like that—"

"MOM."

She laughed again, but then she took on her "teacher voice." "Like I said, just promise me you're using proper protection."

I took deep breath. "Uh, you know I'm on the pill. You put me on it."

"God, yes, you had the worst PMS."

"You said it was for the cramps," I muttered.

"They made you the most bellyaching sourpuss, so naturally I did."

"Gee, thanks."

"You're welcome. And the pill isn't enough. What if you miss a day or two? Double bag it, sweetie."

"Uh, double bag it?"

"You know—oh, maybe you don't—condoms, spermicide, the pill—at least until you have a salary, and you can afford your own mistakes."

"Ouch, mom. Was I a mistake?"

Renee huffed into the phone. "Don't even consider such a notion. Charlie and I were married before you were conceived, dear, and you are trying to change the subject, but I won't be distracted. So, do you have any questions for me dear?"

"Uh, no, mom."

"Nothing you're afraid of?"

"Well, it might hurt," I spat.

"Probably not, actually."

"Mom, I've never done it before—it's going to hurt."

"Well, you remember the time we went camping when you were twelve—we rode horses?"

"The horse bucked and reared until I went flying."

"Wasn't that fun?" she sighed wistfully.

She clearly had ignored me.

"Fun isn't exactly the word, I'd use to describe…"

"Oh, but do you remember the blood?"

"Blood makes me pass out, mom, so, no—I seem to remember trying to not focus on it."

"Well, I took you to the doctor—right away—because besides a few small cuts on your arms and head, some of the blood was coming from between your legs, and you got scared—do you remember that?"

"I block out blood, mom."

"Yes, yes, anyway, you tore your hymen, honey—nothing major—that's why you had no problems with tampons. You already tore open that little curtain," she explained happily.

"Er, nice, mom. Can we talk about Thanksgiving? You know Edward and I were planning on cooking most of the food, so you can just—"

"It still might be uncomfortable your first time, though, dear, so don't say I didn't warn you."

"Turkey, mom. Turkey."

~ * ~

Thus, between Edward and me, a series of stilted conversations occurred over the following week. On one Thursday, when I was doing work for Esme over at the Cullen's, such a conversation occurred.

Because I had wanted to talk to Edward about _protection_.

"So do you have…?" I trailed off, my face flushing.

"Parsley?" he offered. He didn't look up from the tortillas he was charring on the open grill. When I didn't answer immediately, Edward automatically threw a bunch in my direction while he continued to flip tortillas with a pair of tongs.

I sighed. "Not parsley. I meant, um, 'mushroom hats.'"

He looked up then. "You want to make stuffed mushrooms caps?" he asked in confusion.

"NO! I was talking about—well, you know...."

If it were possible for Edward to look more confused, he did. "I don't know what you're talking about. You're being vague."

"C-o-n-d-o-m-s," I whispered.

"What was that?" He exhaled in frustration.

I stomped my foot angrily.

"Bella," he complained. "I can't hear you when you whisper."

"Fine. I'll speak louder. RUB-BERS!" I yelled at him.

Edward's jaw dropped, even as he smirked.

Naturally, Alice chose that minute to walk into the Cullen's kitchen. The expression on her face showed evident, bawdy delight. She leaned up against the counter with feigned indifference at first.

Edward and I both stared at her—waiting for the coming comment. She stared back at us, clearly enjoying our discomfort.

After a moment she glanced in Edward's direction. "Hmmm… the tortillas look a bit crispy," Alice noted impishly.

In fact, the tortillas were aflame. Edward turned back to the stove to see the circles of blue corn blackening by the second. While Edward tried to rectify the situation with tongs, Alice turned on me. "Oh, and Bella, make sure Edward treats your tortilla with more care—extra avocado and sauce—and then you have to savor it long and slow."

I made an attempt to hit Alice with the bunch of parsley.

She backed out the kitchen, avoiding my swipes of leafy herb.

"Oh, and don't worry about the mushroom caps, Bella. Jasper already put some in his drawer!" she called. Her tinkling laugh flowing down the hall.

I turned to face Edward.

He shrugged. "Emmett gave me some, too."

I turned away from him. I made myself a burrito, and I ate it—roughly—messily.

Edward laughed.

~ * ~

Then there was the finger conversation. Well, I shouldn't say it was a "conversation," but it began with us having the Cullen house all to ourselves, so Edward engaged me with some piano playing on the downstairs grand, which inevitably ended with my being sprawled across Edward's golden bed with panties dangling from my right ankle while Edward's fingers pumped in and out of me, and my hand move up and down on him.

But Edward's fingers…

So first there was one finger.

A switch to the thumb for a minute.

Then two fingers.

And then to my shock, he pulled my hand off of him.

"Edward, what are you…?"

But then a third finger joined the other two in Bella's special hole.

And it was…

Different—it pulled.

The bad part of it was that Edward's range of motion was restricted since the space was "filled," so I was plateau'ing rather than climbing, so I nudged him, and being the generous boy that he was, he kissed his way down my stomach until his bronze head was nestled between my legs, and then, his tongue curled and uncurled… and we'll just say that the fine lad finished the job.

And then Edward crawled on top of me, flipping up my skirt, and he pressed himself against my very well-watered flower, pressing up and down as he moved, and his eyes focused in on mine, and there was that jolly rancher fucking green intensity, so I pulled him closer and sucked on his bottom lip, while his breaths grew shorter and sharper against my own as he moved up and down on me.

And again, there was the slight catch as he caught the edge of my entrance.

And it was driving me crazy.

So I asked the question, closing my eyes as I breathed out, "Doyouhaveacondom?"

I said these words...

At the same time that I heard the front door open downstairs.

At the same time that Edward rolled off of me and came onto the sheets, groaning heavily.

Huh.

Well, maybe that wouldn't have been the best idea.

But Edward looked up at me, and we stared.

Both of us with wide eyes.

And then I heard footsteps on the stairs. I pulled my panties up, smoothed my clothes, and combed my fingers through my hair. Edward dashed to the bathroom off of his room.

~ * ~

And then I got my first cold of the season—which didn't deter Edward.

"Fuck it, Bella—snotty or not—I'm still going to kiss you."

"Yum, and these words are from the same punk who once thought that kissing was 'gross'?" I teased. I sounded very nasal from the cold.

"Shut up," He breathed, and then his lips found mine with such force that the kiss pushed me deeply back into my pillow.

But then there were issues.

I couldn't kiss him for long when I couldn't breathe through my nose.

And then there were the effects of the cold medicine.

"Bella—you're…"

"Dry," I muttered, rolling my eyes.

"But you've never been…"

"I'm on fucking antihistamines—they dry up all body fluids, apparently."

"I don't like antihistamines," Edward grumbled.

And then he went to get me some tea.

~ * ~

And then Thanksgiving was almost upon on us, so we made plans. Edward wanted to go for a "hike," because the weather was supposed to be on the warmer side for the weekend—the weatherman even predicted sunshine.

Personally, I thought the idea of me hiking anywhere was definitively imbecilic.

But it was the meadow near the waterfall.

Edward liked that meadow. It was his "special" place.

"Before I even knew about the grotto, I'd run out there," he'd explained.

"And then one day you saw a little girl a'hopping through the woods."

"A vision in terrycloth white."

"And you stalked her."

"I was curious."

"And you peeped at her."

"Fuck yeah, I did."

"Cheaper than kiss-less porn, I suppose."

"Much cheaper."

I hit him.

He laughed.

~ * ~

On Saturday, we arrived at the meadow—and I grumbled most of the way. Hiking was pretty much the opposite of sexy—and it wasn't like we were hiking to the waterfall. Also, I'd never been out here this late in the year. It was colder now, and while coastal Forks never really lost its green—the rainforest of the Pacific Northwest was no longer in its brightest bloom.

Oh, and then we'd come across a patch of fresh Liberty Caps that had sent Edward into a tizzy. Apparently, this was something that the Cullens did for fun.

They went mushroom hunting.

"Mom will be so happy!"

I secretly wondered if Esme smoked those…

Well, as long as I didn't have to carry any fungi, no big deal.

But then we were in the meadow. Edward spread out the blanket, and I collapsed into dewy grass, not caring about getting my clothes wet. I'd dressed carefully this morning: hiking boots, thick socks, a skirt, and leg warmers. The neon orange leg warmers were the remnant of some zealous Alice outfit from earlier in the school year. I'd considered them ridiculous before—but now I thought them very practical. Not only did they make it comfy for me to wear a skirt in the woods, but they also let any roaming hunters know that I was not a deer.

Edward finally finished setting up the blanket. He looked over at me and groaned.

"Bella—off the grass."

I squiggled my nose at him, and then I crawled onto the blanket.

I couldn't help it. I stared down.

At the blanket.

The white blanket felt like an altar.

And I was the sacrificial lamb.

And Edward was the menacing druid priest with black flowing robes, red eyes, and an axe.

Gnome has an axe.

I like gnome.

I do.

Gnome's axe isn't pointy. It's dulled terracotta.

Not pointy.

But Edward is pointy.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"Geezus, Bella, are you okay? What's wrong?"

Edward was talking to me.

I didn't even really hear him.

"The druid has gnome," I tried to explain without much success.

He shook his head and grabbed my hands.

"You're shaking," he murmured, running his hands up and down my arms.

"Nerves," I spat, feeling quite humiliated.

Edward kissed me.

He knelt in front of me and he pressed his lips to mine, dove-soft, harp-sweet, and an "I love you" shaped with lips and tongue but not spoken aloud. He gently edged closer to me, his hands massaging my back. After a minute, I felt the need to move my arms again I hadn't realized before that they were hanging limp. I threaded my fingers through Edward's hair and curled against him. He stroked my hair. I sighed contentedly against his chest.

"We don't have to…"

"But I want to."

And I did—like every time I got horny.

"We could take a break," Edward suggested.

I raised an eyebrow at him. In order to "take a break" you had to be taking a break from something, and we had yet to do anything.

"We could go for a swim?"

"The grotto?" I asked.

He nodded. He smiled at me.

"Oooh. Let's go," I agreed.

Did I mention I was wearing a string bikini under my clothes? Yep. Because unlike panties, it unties. And I didn't want to have to take off my fucking boots to get my bottoms off. And I didn't want panties dangling from my ankle either. And I wanted to stay warm. And the meadow was near my waterfall.

Waterfall!

So we left our crap on the edge of the meadow, and we skipped over to the waterfall.

~ * ~

So, I'd forgotten how much I missed my waterfall.

Because I'd had Edward.

And his goody fingers and twisty tongue.

But having Edward and the waterfall…

_Simple math._

I leapt on him.

I pried his lips open with mine. My hands pulled on his hair and gripped his back. I pressed into him. My tongue demanded his response. Edward's response lagged behind mine for only a second, and then he pushed us into the deepest, warmest part of the water, stepping and pushing and kissing and slipping fingers under the thin fabric of my swimsuit.

"Oh, Bella," he groaned into my neck, when he finally stopped pushing.

I pulled the right strap on my bikini top down.

He pulled down the left.

I pushed the whole thing down.

And his tongue made a beeline from my neck to my breasts.

And a finger sneaked under my bikini bottoms.

I grabbed his hand, pulling it to my waist.

"I love you, but it's not your hand that I want right now."

I pushed his shorts down.

And Edward grabbed the strings on either side of the thin triangles. He started to pull.

But then we heard it.

A distant sound of twigs crackling and footsteps.

We stopped. We listened.

And then it was a voice. Voices. They were approaching.

Edward and I both plunged under water. He had the easier job. He just had to pull up his trunks--oh, and think really hard on the image of Mrs. Cope dressed only in saran wrap.

I, however, had to retie my bikini bottoms and right my triangle top.

And then they were here.

I heard a familiar voice yell, "fuck off, Nancy boys!" and then a fleet, feminine shape leapt out of the shrubbery from above.

Leah Clearwater landed on me.

Well, pretty much. Her leg got my arm.

And then I heard a soft laugh, accompanied by a grumble and a series of splashes.

When I resurfaced, Jake, Seth, and Leah were present.

Jake stared at Edward. Jake looked grumpy.

Seth just looked happy. I think Seth was probably normally happy. He seemed like happy person. He waved at Edward and me.

Leah looked… different. Her face was the same, but her eyes appeared older.

"Bella. Edward"

"Leah," I acknowledged back. Edward gave a nodd.

"Arm okay?" she asked.

There would be a bruise. I shrugged.

"Well—did we interrupt something?" she asked.

I would have thought she was teasing, but she just looked put out.

"Are you okay, Leah?" I asked. You look..."

Behind her, I saw Seth and Jake's eyes pop, and they both furiously shook their heads, causing me to trail off.

Apparently, my question was a bad idea.

Leah didn't miss this. She turned in a fury on Jake and Seth.

"Oh, that's right. Fucking fantastic. Let's keep 'rabid Leah' under sedation and distracted with cheerios and swim time. Let's just forget over tea time that my slag of a cousin—"

"—SIS!" Seth groaned.

"—never drunk-fucked my boyfriend and got knocked up. Oh, and then there's this rezzy bullshit about how I'm supposed to feel sorry for her and support her as part of my family. Well, I don't give a fuck about her and I don't give a fuck about my ex-boyfriend and his tee—"

"LEAH!" both Jake and Seth yelled.

She gave them a false, mocking smile, and then she back to face me.

I feared the worse.

But instead her eyebrow arched.

"Uh, Bella, you want me to fix that for you?" she asked in a strangely calm voice.

I looked down. One triangle was blue. The other was skin-toned inner liner.

It was flipped the wrong way.

Awesome. I was rather sure that I was beet red. Hence, I was rather grateful when Leah grabbed my arm and pulled me across the pool and under the shield of the waterfall. The rush of water sweeping down felt nice as we plunged through it to the narrow space on the other side.

"Stand here," Leah insisted, putting her back between me and the flow of water. "That way, if a beaver dam successfully cuts off the water upstream, you won't be giving my little brother an improper peep show."

I rolled my eyes.

Leah smirked.

Smirking was a big step up for her, so I tried to make more conversation while we fixed my bikini triangle. "How's your family?"

"My dad's cholesterol scares the shit out of my mom—and she's worried that my "outbursts" over my asswipe exboyfriend are going to lead to an early heart attack for him, so yeah, Jacob and Seth are assigned to baby sit me, because all my girlfriends are cooing over Emily, so everything is a sing-song yellow brick road."

I thought about trying to say something comforting—like "it'll be okay" or "I'm sorry," but I knew that would just piss Leah off. She did not want to be comforted. I didn't blame her for that, so I decided on offering vengeance.

"I can punch him."

Leah stopped messing with my strap, and looked me squarely in the eyes, the smirk returning. "What, like how you punched Jacob?"

I frowned. "I've gotten better. I punched Tyler Crowley in the nose—and it worked."

She laughed. A real laugh. "I did hear about that, but that was a cheap shot. Edward punched him first."

But then I couldn't stop the comforting vibe that was welling up in me, because Leah looked so broken when she laughed.

So I hugged her.

And then my strap, which Leah apparently hadn't finished tying yet, came undone.

So, I hugged Leah with an open boob.

We both froze as we stood there, and then we pulled apart with me fixing my strap and Leah taking a single deep breath before exploding with a fit of laughter.

She poked her head through the waterfall, and I heard her ruffled yell through the water. "Edward Cullen, tell your girlfriend to stop hugging me while topless!"

After a moment, Leah pulled her head back in and continued to laugh--even harder..

"When Edward—started to walk—towards us—Jake offered to help—and—THEIR FACES—Now Edward—and Jake—just scowl—at each other—and Seth—looks—looks—confused," she panted out between bursts of hysterical giggling, and then she gave up on trying to contain herself and giggled in an all out fit.

I finished righting my straps and tying them securely, and then I waited patiently for her to come back to planet earth.

Finally, she did, and she looked around happily. "I forgot how much I missed this place—I used to come here…" she trailed off.

I smiled thoughtfully at her, and I brought my hand up to trail my fingers through the curtain of falling water.

"I like it, too."

~ * ~

* * *

Next chapter is Pheonix, and for all of you were hopin' for some lemon zest - it will happen when the time is right. And it will be sooooooooo RIGHT.

I commented.

Now, you comment, too.

It's called a review, folks.

hehe.


	26. Remote and Nutty

_Disclaimer:_ Twilight is Stephenie Meyer's - not mine.

_What I've Been Reading:_ Um, besides being super sweet, gallantcorkscrews makes me laugh my tail off, so you should go check out _Trumped Into Bed_ because I said so, and if you find yourself shaking your head at the repetition of FanFic plot and want to laugh about it, read her "_Blankward_" piece - in good humor, of course. Also, the Twilight Movie crossover contests is going on (and yes, I have one in there) and a lot of the one-shots are great. Jayeliwood's Bloodpop _Harry Potter_ one-shot is sooo well done, as are many others, so go check 'em out and go vote (you get to pick _three_!). To get there, click through the communities tab under Jayeliwood's profile.

_What's Below:_ So per my usual method of errant thought , this chapter did not wander in the line that I thought it would; however, I like this way just fine, especially since Edward is Ecoward in top form, so hopefully you'll be amenable to the zig-zag. Also, N&W, is on the downward spiral. That's right, the end is in sight, folks. We're talking like three to five more chaps. Okay, now I'm getting all emo, just gonna click the "post" button.

* * *

~ * ~

Chapter 25:

In Which Edward is Remote and a Foe is Nutty

~ * ~

On Wednesday afternoon, the day before Thanksgiving, we were in the Seattle airport, and Edward was badgering me.

"Bella, you can't believe that they'll actually let you bring it on board."

"Gnome's a 'he'—not an 'it.' You know that."

"He's a miniature troll with an axe—they're not going to let you through. You should have checked him."

"They charge an extra fifteen dollars to check domestic bags now—I hate that bullshit."

"I would have paid."

I shook my head at Edward. He could be so _thick_.

"No, they would have broken him, and I will not have Gnome harmed by rash negligence. He's already been broken once—I have to protect him." I gazed fondly down at Gnome.

"Well, then, you should let me carry him, then, because the probability of you dropping him…" he trailed off suggestively.

Edward was quite peeved that I was carrying anything. But there was chivalry and then there was garish stupidity. And I would be stupid if I allowed Edward to care for Gnome.

"Let the perpetrator of his attempted murder safe keep him? I think not."

"You're going to drop him, Bella. And they won't let you carry him on. You're going to have to check him. I'm positive."

I waved my hand dismissively.

_Oh, ye of little faith._

"His axe is terra cotta and his heart is gold—there's no reason they won't allow him. Besides, people travel with gnomes all the time."

Edward just rolled his eyes at me.

And then we were at the security checkpoint, taking off our shoes, unpacking our laptops, and placing our bags onto the conveyor for the x-ray machine.

My stuff went through first.

As it was going through, there was a beeping and the security guard called me to the counter for a bag search.

Edward gave me an I-told-you-so look.

I scowled at him and made my way up to the counter.

The security guard smiled when I opened my bag. She pulled out Gnome. "A traveling gnome?" she asked.

I nodded. "Yep, I wanted to get some desert pictures of him."

"I have one, too. Just one sec, honey, we need to check and see if he's hollow, you know," she smiled at me, held up gnome, and looked through his bottom "hole" with a flashlight, and gave me a nod. She slipped Gnome back into the bag.

"There you go, sweetie," she said.

And then I, like everyone in the area, heard a loud beeping.

I turned to see Edward.

Edward, who apparently had brought kitchen utensils and was getting the third degree. Currently, the security guard searching through his stuff was holding an apple corer in one hand and a digital kitchen timer in the other.

The kitchen timer was beeping.

Someone had pressed a button.

"I'm sorry, Sir. If you just press that button there…"

The security guard seemed to be having button issues.

But then Edward reached in his bag and pulled out a small stick.

He clicked the button.

The beeping stopped.

The security guard stared at Edward and his digital kitchen timer remote. Edward really liked that thing. I suppose I shouldn't have been so surprised that he brought it.

BUT turns out remote-controlled beeping shit was not allowed as a carry on, so Edward had to check his bag and then get frisked by a very burly Scandinavian man named "Stev."

Fortunately, Charlie had dropped us off two hours early, and even better, I made use of my time waiting for Edward by sitting at the a coffee bar and downing a latte with a double shot. I also picked up a Cosmo and flipped through. There was an article about "72 Ways to Please Your Man." I circled about five of the "ways." I figured I'd show them to Edward on the plane.

Cheer him up.

Not that this whole situation wasn't slightly karmic.

"Isn't it, Gnome?"

I looked down at him. I was a hundred percent positive that Gnome knew my silent thoughts.

Gnome said nothing. But he didn't need to.

I kissed the top of his cone hat and continued on with my reading.

~ * ~

Renee and Phil met us at the airport. I saw them before they saw us. My mom was grabbing onto Phil's shoulder to balance herself while she stood on her tip toes to peer around a large column that mostly blocked their view of the exiting passengers.

I couldn't help it, seeing her face made my heart burst, so I grabbed Edward's hand and pulled us forward.

We had just rounded the corner, when unsurprisingly, I stumbled in my haste, and Edward just barely managed to catch my waist.

But then mom was there. She threw both apricot cotton arms around me and laughed happily as she sighed out a long breath and squeezed me in her embrace. I hugged her back. "Missed you," I murmured, and then she pulled back to look me in the eyes.

"My little girl, I missed you, too," she greeted, her voice soft and tender, and she gave a final peck on my nose before she turned to Edward. "And here's the boy who's been taking care of my little girl—I get to finally meet you in person, Edward!" she exclaimed breathlessly.

And then she plopped a kiss on his cheek but not before giving me an exaggerated wink.

Edward missed none of this, and I couldn't help but notice that he flushed ever so slightly at my mother's kiss.

Huh. Yeah, my mom wasn't even forty, and she looked like me except with better hair and a tan.

Well, then again, I had been unable to stop myself from occasional ponderings of whether what was hinted at under Carlisle's scrubs was really as firm as it seemed… so I guess I couldn't blame Edward too much.

I did raise an eyebrow at him though.

And then Phil gave me a hug and shook Edward's hand. Phil and Edward immediately started in on the topic of baseball—which bored me, but whatever. I liked Phil, and he looked just the same: polo, jeans, baseball cap, sandy hair, and a wide, friendly smile.

And most importantly, when my mom looked at him, she looked perfectly happy.

Perfectly in love.

When we exited the airport to the car, I took in a long breath of the dry, dusty desert air.

So unlike Forks.

We loaded up the bags in the car, and we drove home.

~ * ~

When we got home, Phil showed Edward the guest room, while I reacquainted myself with my old room. Unlike my room at Forks, which was a hectic mess of my bygone Disney princess days, Alice mandated shopping ensembles, and school stuff—my room in Phoenix had the feel of a proper sanctuary, warm and neat with rich browns, salmon colored walls, and little pots with flowers and cacti scattered about. I smiled at the little pots. Phil must have kept up with watering them for me. Renee certainly wouldn't have remembered. Like my room in Forks, my room here was a reflection of my former habits. By the windows, I had two book shelves full of battered and bound friends—and a huge brown arm chair.

I pulled gnome out my bag and set him on my windowsill, and then I plopped down in the familiar soft, squeaky embrace of my arm chair and surveyed my room. My eyes first fell on the small collection of photographs on the end table, pictures of Renee and Phil at their wedding, Charlie and a younger me in the police cruiser, and then at the very back, a picture of two small girls, one in a mermaid costume and one with a yellow skirt and blue puffed sleeves. I picked it up, examining our smiles, and then I frowned. This picture used to make me sad, but now it just seemed false—like a puzzle piece that no longer fit. I set it back, face down on the small table.

"It's good to remember what was good."

I turned to the doorway to see Renee entering my room. I smiled at her. I realized I had grown used to Charlie's solitary ways. I'd almost forgotten that there was no way my mother could not chatter my ear off from the minute I got home.

"I should put a picture of Edward here." I nodded toward the table.

"We'll take some while you both are here, and then I'll frame them for you, and also… I think that you should leave the one with you and Victoria up. That little girl in that picture was a good friend."

I frowned. "Well, it didn't last, did it?"

She sat down on the edge of my bed. "Very true, but sometimes it's best to remember the good things—even if certain things weren't meant to be."

"Aw, mom," I muttered, "you should write a eulogy while you're at it."

"Sometimes I feel like I should," she replied sadly, sighing and leaning back into the pillows on my bed.

This was an old conversation—one that I didn't feel like encouraging at the moment.

"So how are things with Phil?" I asked.

She sat up and smiled at me. "I wanted to talk you about that, Bella."

My mouth fell open. "Are things okay, mom? I mean they seem like…"

"Oh, things are great. Wonderful, in fact, although I wish you were here."

I gave her a smile in reply.

Renee took a deep breath, "What would you think of having a sibling?"

I couldn't help it. I stared and then giggled, but her face looked so worried, that I nodded through my giggles, and then I started to process what she asked me.

My mouth fell open, and I asked, "Mom, are you pregnant?"

"No, but we're trying," she informed.

I raised an eyebrow.

"Please keep me on the _need-to-know_ basis, mom."

"Well, I am thirty-eight, Bella—so Phil and I are having to put some effort into this," she explained.

I snorted again. "Uh, mom, the both of you never seemed to have any problems with 'effort' before."

She shook her at me. "It's just that we're monitoring my temperature and my cycles and that sort of thing, you know."

"Need-to-know, mom," I groaned.

"Well, you should know that Thanksgiving is just… a bit inconvenient this year."

"Oh, really?"

She huffed. "What I _mean_ is don't be surprised if Phil and I disappear for the odd half hour or so."

"God, I guess I'm going to be sleeping on the couch," I groaned.

The walls in this house were pathetically ill-suited to blocking sounds_._

"Oh," she looked at me curiously. "I just assumed you'd stay in the guest room with Edward."

I raised an eyebrow at her.

"And you're okay with that?"

My mom rolled her eyes. "Just don't rub it in Phil's face—he's confused about how to act 'fatherly' still."

I groaned.

But then my mother got a goofy grin on her face.

"And oh, you should know, in the right hand nightstand, there's a box of Trojans, just in case."

"MOM!" I yelled.

I yelled extra loud for two reasons: first, because talking to your mom about condoms, on its own, is a mortifying event, and second, I yelled because Edward had just stuck his head around the corner in time to hear.

Edward's eyes had popped ever so slightly at my mother's words.

Renee, needless to say, cackled at our double embarrassment, but then she stood up, gave an exaggerated look at her watch and turned to me, "Gotta go find, Phil," she sang.

I frowned and shook my head at her.

"Need to know," I repeated.

She laughed and kissed me on the head, and then headed toward the door. She gave a very quiet Edward a smile and a quick squeeze on the shoulder, and then she was out the door.

"Should I ask?" he intoned warily.

"Better not to, but we should go downstairs."

"Are we getting started on cooking?"

"Well, that and…"

"And what?"

"The walls up here are thin," I explained.

"Oh, right…?"

~ * ~

Ten minutes later, I was slumped over the counter of the kitchen, and Edward had a sizable pile of boxes in front of him.

"Poison." He held up another box.

I groaned.

"Cardiac arrest." He threw its twin onto the pile.

"Edward, it's not that bad." I tried to retrieve the box.

He pushed my hand away, and continued. "Type two diabetes in a protein bar—fuck, and this shit is supposed to be 'healthy.'"

"Those are Phil's, you can't just chuck it without asking," I complained.

"It's expired, anyway. I have a feeling that after Phil tasted how crappy the first one was, he left this one to rot in its trans-fat, high-fructose hell state."

I groaned, picked up the package, and looked at the ingredients. "Well, given the number of preservatives, I don't think it's going to rot in 'hell state' any time soon."

"Chemical purgatory, then."

"Edward," I groaned. "We have to get cooking."

"I'm not cooking with this shit."

"But we promised."

"We did. And we will. But we're going to the store first."

I gave up.

"Fine," I groaned, and I went to find Renee's keys.

~ * ~

We had to drive to the center of the zip code to go to a grocery store that met Edward's qualifications. It was also late Wednesday on the evening before Thanksgiving—so the store was unfortunately crowded. I looked around hesitantly as we walked in.

"What's the matter?" Edward asked, eyeing my expression as he grabbed a cart.

"Nothing." I shrugged. "I just normally would never come here."

"But they actually sell whole wheat pasta here—in multiple shapes and sizes," he insisted.

I smiled at him. "It's not the product—it's the bitches that are buying it." Edward laughed, looking around, and I couldn't help but notice that a few faces—even older ones—had to flick glances away from my boyfriend, although the occasional set of eyes lingered. Then, once they caught my stare, they finally flicked their eyes away.

I growled under my breath.

Edward grabbed my waist, and he pulled me to him and kissed me.

_All sweetly and perfectly._

"Bella, promise me that you won't let brainless hos get in the way of whole grain, okay?" he insisted.

And I couldn't help it, so I laughed.

"Now, let's go find Phil new protein bars as well as some of that retro shit they call real butter."

~ * ~

I was in the coffee section, picking up fallen beans from the loose bins and giving them an assessing sniff. I had decided that the store brand of French roast smelled burnt, the Sumatra could be graded acceptable, the Columbian beans would work well in a mix, and the House beans were confusing. Well, either they were confusing, or I'd just sniffed enough delicious bean aromas that I'd numbed my nasal receptors.

_But they smelled so unbelievable…_

I finally made myself a bag, but then I decided I should go get something for the road, so I wandered over to the refrigerated drink section. I grabbed an ice coffee for myself and one for Edward, and then I headed over to the bulk section where Edward was supposed to be.

I stopped short.

Two girls were talking to Edward. Well—I should amend—one, a tall, fake blond, was actually talking to him. The other had her back turned, seemingly ignoring the conversation and sorting through a bin of dried apricots, picking the best ones and scooping them into a small, brown paper bag.

Even though her back was turned, I recognized her immediately.

_Victoria._

And the other girl was Laura.

My second of shock was broken by the nasal voice of Laura Entworth.

"What kinda nuts are those?" she giggled at my boyfriend.

"Pecans," Edward answered, looking totally annoyed.

"I really like _pecans_—and peanuts and Brazillian nuts, too," she cooed.

And then she picked up a nut from the bin and bit into it, sort of slowly, like I think she was trying to be sexy or something.

Edward looked like he had just swallowed a sour lemon.

I had to choke back a laugh. I saw Victoria's head jerk low as she clapped a hand over her mouth to do the same.

And then Edward glanced up, and he saw me, giving me a relieved look.

And then Laura and Victoria looked, too.

A lovely tense moment.

"Why hello there, Bella," Laura called, her nasal voice dripping with false charm.

"Laura, Vicky." I returned. I didn't look at Victoria, but I gave Laura my best 'fuck-you' smile, and then I turned to Edward, "Hey, babe, you ready?" I called.

"Yep," Edward answered, and then he turned to Laura. "Here, you can keep these."

He handed her the pecans.

"Go nuts," he told her.

And then he pushed the cart down the aisle until he reached me.

I dropped the coffee into the basket, and he threw his arm around my waist.

We left to go check out.

I didn't turn around to see their faces.

I didn't need to.

~ * ~

* * *

So, like, I did research and whatnot for this chapter. The "Traveling Gnome Prank" is sorta cool to read about on wikipedia. That being said, I do not condone the purloining of your neighbor's lawn ornaments - unless they are flamingos- and then, I say: cut them.


	27. Outnumbered Babes

Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to S. Meyer - her characters are hers. The story and all things odd in it belong to yours truly.

_What I've Been Reading:_ What You Thought You Knew by Hmonster4 (_there are real adults with real problems_) and Place Your Bets by KatieBelleCullen & VanillaBeans (very funny).

So, this is dirty and zany. Have fun...

* * *

*

~ * ~

Chapter 26

In Which Breakfast Outnumbers the Turkey and Bella Loses her Babe

~ * ~

*

I woke up the next morning to unfiltered sunlight irritating my eyes.

I jerked away, blinking furiously.

From my side, I heard a groan. I turned to see the sleepy vision of my gorgeous boyfriend squinting up at me.

"You _moved_, and now it's in _my_ eyes," Edward whined as he flipped onto his stomach burying his face into his pillow.

"Poor, pretty baby," I cooed sarcastically, pulling myself across his back and laying my face alongside his.

I couldn't help it, so I drove my hips against him, while my chest pressed firmly into his back, and I could feel him tense up against me.

"Crap, fuck, now I'm actually awake," he groaned grumpily into the pillow.

"Good, because we have a holiday meal to cook."

Edward's head lifted to give me a smile, and then he turned his head to press his lips to mine. The angle wasn't perfect, so it was more of an awkward side kiss, which made me laugh and him smile crookedly.

I started to sit up and pull away, but Edward jerked me back down.

"But what if I want breakfast in bed?" he teased wickedly, and he pulled on my arm as he pushed up, causing me to slide to the side of him.

I shook my head. "Thin walls," I muttered.

Edward pulled himself over me and stared down. "Your mom and Phil didn't seem to care," he argued.

I shook my head in exasperation. "I'm not _deaf_, and just think, we're at the other end of the hallway—if I'd slept in my room last night..."

"Bella, I'm glad you're in here in this bed with me. Very glad," he emphasized, and then he lifted himself slightly, and his eyes caught mine and then pointed downward suggestively.

I looked down, too. There was a lump at full salute in his boxers.

_Good morning, Edward._

He kissed me again, and then he whispered, "We can just be really quiet. You can just bite this." He held up a pillow.

"Edward," I groaned. "Losing our virginity with my mom down the hall is not appealing. With my luck and her lack of boundaries, she'd probably hear us and then barge in immediately afterwards yelling 'congratulations!' or something equally horrible."

"I didn't mean _sex_, Bella. I said I wanted _breakfast_."

And then he pushed the covers off of the both of us, and climbed over me so that he was kneeling above me, rock-hard ass in the air, and facing my feet, and then I felt him lick a circle around my navel.

My eyes rolled back into my head. "Maybe, I should make sure the door is locked?" I offered, panting slightly because Edward's tongue had begun to outline the waist band of my cotton pants.

"Already locked. Now, ass up," he ordered.

And I did, I lifted my hips, and his thumbs slid down my soft pants to reveal the natural effect of Edward being in a ten-foot proximity to my body.

I was quite slick.

So then it was _Good morning, Bella._

Edward immediately traced the edge of my inner thigh with his finger, and the he threw his head back, and smiled at me.

"You're so wet that you're sparkling in the sunlight," he told me in a low voice.

I gave him a withering look in reply.

"Awesome, Edward, you're attracted to shininess, how very _advanced_ of you."

"Shut up, Bella," he murmured playfully.

And then he licked me in one long stroke.

I had to bite the pillow.

The pillow tasted cottony and had that farmy smell that comes with real feathers.

But I didn't fucking care.

About the farmy smell at least.

I cared about the delicious tension shooting up my middle.

Because Edward's tongue was doing a tap dance across my flowery parts.

But then Edward rolled to my side and propped up on an elbow.

"Bella?" he asked.

"Edward." I replied.

"Don't you want breakfast, too?" he asked, his voice thick with implication.

It took only a second for me to puzzle out his meaning. "At the same time?" I asked shyly.

_We hadn't done that before._

"Please."

I had to take a deep breath to calm myself.

He gave me a crooked smile. "Take off my boxers," he said.

I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes at his cocky expression.

He was being annoyingly bossy, but I did as I was told, pushing his boxers slid down, and Edward's morning wood was at the ready in front of me. And then we were both breathing heavily.

"Now leg up, Bella," Edward pressed.

He pushed up on my thigh.

I frowned at him.

"What, like a _dog_?" I asked dubiously.

He laughed. "No—not like a dog. But as far as "doggie" things go, maybe someday…" he implied.

"Presumptuous prick," I muttered, but I raised my leg.

"Lick my prick, please," he laughed in response, even as his hand started to run down my thigh.

Talking was getting annoying, so licking him was exactly what I did. I heard a gasp, and Edward buried his face between my legs in response.

And I licked him, letting my tongue swirl around his head.

And the muscles down below my stomach clenched as he suffocated a groan into my wet center—which caused me to moan, so I muted my sound by taking him into my mouth. And then I felt him repressing another groan again as his tongue pushed into me.

So we went back and forth.

Like a see-saw.

With both of us getting so utterly distracted by the other's movements that upon realizing the woeful neglect, we'd end up jerking back into action again, only to cause the other to lose their rhythm.

_Teeter-Totter._

But the sense of urgency was rising, too.

Uneven but constant.

Swirling upward.

Like a wing nut twirling up a screw.

Up and around and up and around.

And then Edward—who had been largely focusing on the 'reservoir' and the 'banks'—decided to lick the 'dock.'

And I was getting towed in…

And then I was…

I was there.

My eyes squeezed shut, my propped leg flailed about above Edward, and my moans reverberated on the dick in my mouth.

Edward helped me come down.

He grabbed my thigh and gently lowered it back to the bed, and then he pulled his lower half away from me, obviously gritting his teeth as he pulled himself out of my mouth.

And then it happened like clockwork.

I slid off the bed, gently pulling his hand.

He sat on the edge with me kneeling in between his legs.

And I took him in, and my head bobbed up and down, and his fingers lightly combed through long strands of hair for only a moment.

But then his face clenched.

His mouth opened like he needed to say something, but he didn't.

Instead, he crashed backward, supine and sprawled, fisting the sheets and shoving his face into a pillow.

I felt the muscles in his thighs clench.

And his cock pulsed as my lips suctioned, and I felt it as he came in my mouth, and I drank in the warm liquid.

And then I kissed my way up Edward. I trailed small pecks on the defined squares of his stomach, licked at his belly button, and breathed a long trail up his chest, letting my nose graze against his skin the entire way. Edward smelled so _good_.

And then I softly pressed my lips against his.

"How was breakfast?" he asked cheekily.

I rolled my eyes, but I smiled.

"What if I told you I was still hungry?" he asked again.

I giggled—couldn't help it. He looked so proud of himself.

But then there was a knock at the door.

I jerked the sheet over the both of us.

"Uh, yeah?" I called.

"Good morning!" I heard Renee's chipper voice outside.

"Can you give us five minutes, mom?" I asked, my voice going just a tad too high.

I heard a round of laughter from behind the door. Next to me, Edward shook his head.

"No, no, no, dear. Take your time. I just wanted to let you know that I started in on the turkey."

Edward and I both looked at each other.

We started throwing clothes on immediately.

My mom continued on, "Anyway, so no big rush. I'll be downstairs." Her voice was already fading as we heard the retreating thumps of her descending the stairs.

"Has she ever even cooked a turkey before?" Edward asked breathlessly, trying to button up his shirt.

"I don't let her microwave frozen dinners, so what do you think?" I fitted the clasp of my bra.

Edward groaned.

"What are you groaning about, anyway? It's not like you're going to have to eat it."

"I still don't believe in wasting food," he returned, and then he gave me a crooked smile. "Not a drop," he quipped.

I rolled my eyes at him.

But then he Edward pushed me back down on the bed.

"Not a drop," he repeated huskily.

"But the _turkey_," I blurted

But then Edward snapped his face to mine and kissed me deeply.

Renee and turkey trouble were temporarily forgotten.

~ * ~

But eventually we did go downstairs.

Renee was in the kitchen, wearing an apron and looking like a five year-old trying to figure out her Easy Bake Oven Set.

My attempts to drag my mother out of the kitchen did not bear fruit.

She protested, laughing and holding up a sheet of paper. "Bella, I was doing just _fine_—I printed out internet directions and everything. The turkey is in the oven. I followed the instructions—and the oven helped."

Edward and I turned and exchanged a skeptical look.

I dropped my mother's hand and went to peek at the turkey.

I peered through the over window to see the turkey sitting in a large roasting pot. There appeared to be nothing on it—no tin foil to protect the breast meat—no spices—no nothing. I turned back to my mother. I pointed at the oven. "It doesn't look like it's had anything done to it."

My mom nodded at my words. "It's not at that _stage_ yet," she explained, as if this was obvious.

I sighed in frustration. "Do tell, mom, what _stage_ is it at then?"

"Cleaning—it's being _purified_."

"Er, mom—normally roasting it at a high temperature is all it needs for _purification_."

"Oh, Bella, don't give me that tone. I'm just following the instructions."

She pointed to the piece of paper, which Edward picked up the sheet off the counter. He frowned and cocked his head to the side as he read aloud. "_Kill the turkey_." He looked up at Renee and me, simultaneously horrified and amused.

I looked over at Renee, my jaw hanging open. She shrugged and was clearly about to say something when my vegetarian boyfriend started to read again.

"The best way to take out our feathered friend is to stun him with an electric shock, and then clench his beak shut while you slice his throat. Get back. Our feathered friend will flap and claw and spurt blood everywhere, and you can lose an eye to a well-placed flap of the wings or claw of a talon (thus the goggles). You may prefer to simply break its neck. Next, scald the bird in a boiling vat for 45 seconds. Pluck by hand—be sure to wash the blood off of you first though—otherwise you might look a little _featherbrained_ yourself!

Edward stopped reading and stared, blinking furiously at the print out for a second, but then he returned to reading.

"Use a blow torch to remove the hair feathers. _Do not fizzle the bird_! You are simply burning feathers, not the skin or the meat. Finally, it's time to butcher the turkey! Lay our now featherless friend on his back on a sturdy table. Hack off his feet first and then sever the flaps of skin along the anus, opening up the body cavity.

"Do not cut any organs! It will make an organy _mess_. Insert a hand up the body cavity of the bird. Scoop out everything away except the heart, liver, and gizzard. Keep those. They make delicious giblet gravy. Use force to extract the trachea and esophagus. Finally, you are ready for cooking. Wash all parts well and remove any leftover blood or feathers."

Edward finished reading and looked up at us, "So, what is the _state_ of our 'feathered friend'?" he asked aloud, smirking.

"Mom—where the hell did you find those farmer Bob directions?"

"What—it's a fresh turkey?" she answered, arms crossed indignantly.

"It's a commercially packaged _Butterball_, mom."

"It said _fresh_ on the package," she argued back.

Edward's jaw was clenched in a funny way, and he looked like he was desperately trying to hold his tongue. Topics like commercial labeling of food products tended to send him into endlessly long tirades. Then, there was the whole being a vegetarian thing…

"Renee, if I may ask, how did you know how long to roast the turkey—there are no instructions on this page," Edward asked in a very polite voice.

"Oh, it's not roasting yet," my mother explained.

I frowned at her and put my hand on the oven door. I could feel an intense heat, even through the insulated material.

"Yes, it is, mom. The oven is really hot."

She threw her hands up like this was the simplest thing in the world. "It's a special oven," she answered. "You haven't used it yet—Phil got it for me after you left for Forks—it has automated baking features like temperature control and preheat and cooking time."

"Mom, I don't care what you say—that turkey is _roasting_."

"No, I told you before. The turkey is not roasting—it's _cleaning_."

I heard a sharp intake of breath from Edward as he moved toward the oven, while I was still staring at my mother, "What do you mean by _cleaning_?" I asked.

Edward was jiggling the oven handle behind me.

"I hit the 'clean' button," my mother answered.

I gave an involuntary shriek and smacked my hand over my head. Edward gave up on jiggling the handle.

"What? What's the matter?" Renee asked.

"MOM, THE 'CLEAN' BUTTON IS TO CLEAN THE OVEN! IT IS NOT FOR ANY PURPOSE TO CLEAN A TURKEY!"

"Oh, well, what's the big deal? Just take it out." She shrugged.

"Mom, it is ON LOCKDOWN at 900 degrees FOR THREE HOURS OR MORE until it incinerates all CRAP left in the oven!"

"Chemical-free method," Edward added nonchalantly.

"Really, that's _cool_. I didn't know the oven could do that," Renee acknowledged, nodding thoughtfully at Edward.

I pulled at my hair. "Mom, IT IS NOT COOL! It is only COOL if you like charred bird."

"I still don't understand why we can't open it," she huffed irritably.

"900 degrees is rather hot, mom," I grumbled. "The door auto-locks to prevent burn injuries." Being able to take it no longer, I slid to the floor and covered my face with my hands.

Edward turned to Renee. "When did you put it in?" he asked in a level tone.

"A half an hour ago."

He turned to me, "Do you think it will burst into flame? The oven's not designed to handle ten pounds of flaming turkey."

I groaned miserably, but I started to stand back up. "I'll go look on the internet first, and then I'll try calling," I grumbled mostly to myself.

"Well, at least there's Tofurky," Edward offered soothingly.

"Oooh," Renee sounded with interest. "I always wanted to try that."

I threw my hands up in the air.

Tofurky, it would be.

~ * ~

Eight hours later after the oven had been replugged and returned to its proper location, after a blackened bird had been unceremoniously dumped in the garbage, and after Edward, Phil, and I had done a great deal of chopping, mixing, and baking—we had all sat down for Thanksgiving.

Renee had been permitted to set the table. She'd done a good job—if a bit eccentric.

There was a large bowl of fresh leaves and a fake bird in the center of the table. The leaves weren't exactly fall leaves—it was the desert after all—but clearly she'd made an effort. She'd also put the duck in the middle of the bowl—apparently she couldn't find any fake turkeys that would fit.

"People either seemed to want front porch turkeys or shadow box mini turkeys—I don't understand why there aren't any medium sized," she'd complained.

I didn't know how to tell my mom that most people didn't put fake turkeys in bowls for their centerpiece.

In spite the stress of the day, however, it was a nice meal. Maple yams, roasted garlic beet salad, cranberry apple stuffing, butternut squash soup, Asian-style string beans, fresh harvest bread, and of course, last but not least Tofurky stuffing, gravy, and meat. To my surprise, Phil really tucked in—but upon reflection I suppose it shouldn't have been a shocker. I think the man probably hadn't had a decent home-cooked meal since I'd been home last. It was kind of cute in a way, though. I could tell that he probably always ate Renee's food no matter what and without complaint.

After we finished eating, we all started to clean up—but Renee ran Phil and Edward out of the kitchen.

"Scram, you two! I'm going to at least handle the cleanup," she insisted. "Go out to the field and throw a ball around a bit—besides I need mother-daughter time with my little girl."

I grumbled and followed Renee into the kitchen, while Phil enthusiastically showed Edward where he stored his equipment.

"Oh, lose that face—you can handle an hour or two away from your sexpot boyfriend." She scraped the plates over the trash.

"_Mom_," I groaned. "Please _contain_ your comments." I opened the dishwasher door and started loading utensils into the tray.

She waved her hand, blowing me off. "So, how were _things_ this morning," she continued on.

"I don't know, mom. How were _things_ last night?" I countered.

"Well, since you asked—I got this new little slinky thing from—"

"GAH—no, stop there. We are not talking about this. You're my _mom_."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, I will say—from the few things that I heard down the hallway—it seems like things were going pretty—"

"Stop. Stop. Stop. We are not talking about this, so what are you hoping for—a boy or a girl?"

She gave me an assessing look and then, deciding that I'd been teased enough and answered my question, "Either is fine, but I think it'd be nice to have a son and a daughter." She reached over, smiling and gave me an affectionate tap on the shoulder.

I smiled back at her. "So what about names…?"

~ * ~

A few hours later, baby names had been discussed and argued over in detail, and the kitchen was once again returned to its proper order, so Renee and I plopped down in the living room on the couch. She started reviewing some of her student's assignments while I was flipping through a small book of baby names she had given me.

I was having a hard time concentrating though.

I kept looking out the front door.

Renee saw my expression.

"Go," she said.

I looked back at her. "I'm fine here. I don't have to…"

"You're giving _me_ anxiety—and you know I'm never anxious—so go."

I gave her a quick peck on the cheek and headed for the door.

"Have fun," my mom called as I stepped outside.

And then I was padding my way down the street—happy to feel the breeze push through my hair and the sun melt down my back. Tall, thin and wispy Palo Altos shivered as both I and the arid wind swept past them. I glanced about curiously as I took in the subtle changes in my former hometown: a new fence here, a new paint job there, or a new neighbor moved in to the corner house. As I neared the park, duplexes, apartments, and small townhouses with slightly discolored agave plants, stringy grassy, and hedges of hop bush gradually faded away, and nicer houses with real adobe brick and pastel stucco walls, small circles of "lawn," and larger, more exotic cacti grew more common.

When I reached the field, I spotted Phil and Edward immediately. They had clearly found a group and an impromptu scrimmage seemed to be going on.

Realizing that I had probably been in the sun too long already for my skin, I immediate ran over to my favorite shaded spot under a long, covered park patio and plopped down at a picnic bench, pulling out the book of baby names, and settling down to flip through it.

At some point, though, I heard my name.

"Bella," Edward called, waving.

I smiled and waved back at both Phil and Edward.

But then I saw another face.

Another face was staring at me in recognition.

Standing on the base closest to me was none other than James.

And that alone would have been enough to make me go home.

But then I heard my name being called from behind me.

I turned.

"Hi, Bella," Victoria greeted.

~ * ~


	28. Apology Eulogy Felony

_Disclaimer:_ Stephenie Meyer ain't the writer here—but she owns the characters.

_What I've Been Reading:_ _Cowboys and Indians_ by Minisinoo—such a breath of fresh air—Leah and Jasper form an unlikely and highly fascinating friendship. Then _A Curious Correspondance_ by sunshinelollypops. It starts with diva Lauren Mallory popping her ass in Eric Yorkie's face and giving him a bloody nose. Poor Eric, but then Bella is a delightful smartass, and for some reason a gay Aro has decided there's going to be a Harry Potter play—I don't understand, but I've decided that no matter what, it will be wonderful.

A thank you to Thallium81, witvock, and houroflead, who submitted to assuaging my fear mongering and pointing out my fuckups. Y'all get e-hugs.

* * *

~ * ~

Chapter 27:

In Which an Apology Replaces a Eulogy and a Felony Is Technically Avoided

~ * ~

_I was standing in the science wing. Karen, or "Ms. Cartwright" as I called her at school, had kept me after hours to convince me to enter a genetic project for the spring science fair—but I remained unconvinced. My lack of enthusiasm sprang in part from the obvious frustration I would encounter working with Ms. Cartwright. As one of my mother's best friends, I knew her far too well; hence, I didn't bat an eye when her son called, reminding her that she needed to collect him from soccer practice. She'd forgotten about that, apparently. The kid was lucky he had a cell phone. I smiled as I sighed. She and Renee ran like two peas in the pod—both constantly passionate and flighty about everything, so it was no wonder they were friends._

_Still, it was annoying that I was stuck with the cleanup._

_I was sorting through a pile of charts when I heard the door open._

_It wasn't whom I expected._

_James walked in._

"_Bella," he greeted suavely as he walked up to my lab table._

"_Oh, hi, James," I replied, my voice unexplainably shy. It was odd. Even though he was my best friend's boyfriend, I had never actually been alone with him. People like James—rich, ridiculously good-looking—didn't associate with scrawny Bella Swan unless by requirement. Trying to not be rude or let my own sense of discomfort spread to him, I asked, "Where's Victoria?"_

"_Practice went late. She asked me to come meet you."_

"_That was nice of you."_

_He smiled and leaned over my lab table so that his face was just inches away. "Bella, why are you alone in science wing after school?"_

"_Oh…Ms. Cartwright…She left early—I, eh—clean up," I mumbled._

_He looked at me for a minute, and then he gave a laugh. "Say that again, Bella."_

_I rolled my eyes, but then I took a deep breath before I slowly spoke, "Ms. Cartwright was her usual spacey self, so I'm stuck doing the cleanup."_

"_Well, I'll help you," he offered. He picked up a pair of beakers, and he pointed his head toward a glass paned cabinet with a raised eyebrow._

_I smiled and nodded._

_And then we both cleaned up._

_By the time we finished, Victoria had still yet to show._

"_Hey, is it okay, if we go to my locker before we meet Victoria?" he asked._

"_Sure."_

_And then James held open the door for me, and I stiffened when I felt his hand press lightly into my lower back as I went through the doorway._

_But I ignored it—it probably meant nothing –I just picked up my pace down the hall. James easily kept the pace by my side._

_And then we were at James's locker. I leaned against a locker alongside his and waited while he spun the dial and clicked it open. I realized that I probably needed to get home soon, Phil was coming over—and I didn't want my mom to embarrass herself by actually trying to cook anything on her own._

_James interrupted my worrying. "Hey, Bella, can I ask you something?" he asked._

"_Uh, yeah."_

_I'd probably make stroganoff I decided. Simple enough._

"_Vicky told me something."_

_I nodded, waiting for him to get to the point._

_James took a step closer to me, putting his hands on the locker on both sides of me as he spoke in a low tone. "She said something about you being a dirty girl, little Bella. Is that true?" he questioned. His voice was deep and low and strong and confident._

_I froze. Memories of conversations held in confidence popped into my head, and I felt the traitor heat rising in my cheeks, even as I tried to keep my face blank._

"_I don't know what you're talking about," I muttered, trying to duck under his arm as I made to leave._

_James gripped my shoulders and firmly pressed my back flush against the line of lockers._

"_But I think you do," he said smoothly, still holding me._

"_Victoria would never tell you anything like that," I spat wretchedly._

_He shook his head slightly. "I don't think Vicky tells you everything, but…" he paused, and then he pressed his body into mine. "I believe there are certain things best aired in the open. I don't think you know your best friend as well as you think you do. What do you say to that, Bella?" And then I felt him reach up to caress my face with his thumb, his face curious. I recoiled. I wanted so badly to flee down the hall—to push away—but I was frozen. His body trapped mine, and I couldn't escape. And then his leg pushed in between mine, and I could feel him through his jeans._

_And I was shaking._

"_James, let me the fuck go—"_

_But then I was cut off, because one of his hands grabbed my jaw while the other roughly gripped the side of my breast, and then his mouth was on mine—and his tongue was pushing against my bottom lip and then between my lips and then forcing itself into my mouth—and I briefly considered biting it—but I was worried about the reaction that might provoke. Instead, I jerked my face and his tongue was gone from my mouth, but then his tongue was in the crook of my neck and rolling up to just beneath my ear._

_And he was pressing his lower half even harder against me._

"_James! I said get the—" I started to yell._

_But then there was another voice._

"_James—stop!"_

_Victoria was in the hallway. Laura was with her._

_James immediately released his pressure against me and walked over to Victoria with a fucking swagger._

"_Hey, Vicky," he greeted, completely nonchalant except for the subtle uptake in his breathing._

"_What the—!" she began._

_But James cut her off._

"_Bella and I had a little chat, Vicky."_

_Victoria's eyes widened and her gaze flicked from James to me to Laura and back again._

"_Bella was confused, but then we all get confused, don't we, Vicky? You should forgive her," he continued as if nothing out of the realm of polite everyday manners had just been exchanged._

_Victoria was looking at me then, not at James, not at Laura. Her eyes remained huge, frenzied, questioning. Laura sneered at me. I looked back blankly—hurt—betrayed._

_And then Victoria's jaw clenched. She gave James an angry stare._

_And then she turned her irate expression on me._

_Cold. Alien. Dead._

_I was still in shock as she spun on her heel, grabbed Laura's hand, and they walked down the hall._

_James turned and gave me a final arrogant smirk before jogging to catch up with them._

_I was left in the hallway._

_Alone._

_Empty._

_~ * ~_

_The next day when I walked into school, I tried to avoid everyone. I called Victoria's line the night before but she had not picked up. When I called her house line, her mother seemed only too gleeful to tell me that I was always the no-good jezebel that she'd always thought I was. Needless to say, I hadn't called again._

_I was purposely not paying attention as I walked toward the gym. I had my hoodie pulled over and was comfortable yet still miserable in my favorite pair of tattered old jeans. But then I got there. I got to my locker. There were other girls staring at my locker. They tensed and backed away when I approached. And then I saw._

_There were typed strips of paper:_

_BELLA SWAN MASTURBATES._

_BELLA SWAN NEEDS TO KEEP HER HANDS TO HERSELF AND NOT ON OTHER GIRL'S BOYFRIENDS._

_BELLA SWAN IS A DIRTY BITCH._

_BELLA SWAN…_

_I stopped reading. I started ripping._

_And then there was another set of hands helping me._

_I turned to see Ms. Cartwright._

_And then once the papers were ripped, her hands pulled me into a hug. "Who did this?" she asked._

_I didn't say anything._

_Because down the way I saw "Vicky."_

_She was staring at me, and her face was the same as yesterday._

_Cold. Dead. Alien._

_Not my friend._

_My friend was gone._

~ * ~

"Hi, Bella," Victoria greeted. Her voice was careful but slightly unsteady.

And here I was, sitting on a dusty, splintery park bench with my own personal Judas standing behind me.

_Hallelujah._

"I'm leaving," I muttered as I stood up.

"Please, _stay_," she begged.

I stopped. I looked at her.

"Please, Bella?" she begged again.

She looked… bad for her. Her hair was not in its typical silky mane of defused ringlets but instead was frizzy and smashed under a green, logo-less baseball cap. Her eyes were slightly bloodshot, and lavender circles darkened the crescents beneath them.

"Um, why?" I snapped, but my voice lacked the vitriol I intended it to have.

"I'm…sorry," she breathed, almost whispering

The moment was filled by the nearby sounds of a bat cracking against a ball and the shouting of male voices.

Victoria took a breath and spoke again. "I know it doesn't change anything, but I am. I'm sorry."

"You're right," I agreed coldly. "It doesn't change anything."

"Can we talk?" she asked.

I frowned at her.

"I just want to talk, Bella," she insisted.

I gave a long sigh and sat down.

_Fuck me._ Here I was again, allowing myself to be vulnerable for no valid reason whatsoever, but then I looked out at the field. I saw Edward staring intently at me. He looked ready to come over, but I stopped him. I smiled at him and waved, shaking my head at the same time. He gave me a tentative smile in return.

Beside me, Victoria spoke, "He's hot, Bella."

"Yeah, surprise, surprise—a hot boy likes Bella," I growled sarcastically.

Victoria's tone didn't change. "I'm not surprised," she said firmly, and then a smirk sneaked into her expression. "Although, it was funny—the other day—to see Laura's reaction. After you left, she was still holding the bag of nuts, and then she was so stunned when I tried to get her attention that she dropped the bag. The pecans scattered all over the place…" Victoria gave a short laugh, but when I didn't respond, her voice quieted down again.

"It's obvious that he loves you. He looked… ready to come over and whisk you away."

I nodded, keeping my eyes fixed on the field—on Edward.

"It must be nice to have someone like that—to not be alone," she murmured.

I gave a shrill laugh and turned to face her. "You have a bitch pack licking at your heels. You have a boyfriend. You have a youth group full of worshipful sycophants. You are not_alone_."

I had been _alone_—the pariah—and it had been _her_ fault.

_Her self-pity was fucking pathetic._

"James doesn't love me," she murmured, looking out at the field.

I followed her gaze. James was intently watching the two of us, and I couldn't help but notice Edward staring irritably at James.

I turned back to Victoria. I shrugged. "Then leave him," I retorted.

"Funny, Bella."

"I wasn't trying to be."

"I know," she whispered, her voice suddenly low again.

I sighed and then groaned into my hands. This caused my book to fall of my lap.

Victoria picked it up before I could.

"Baby names?" she asked aloud, surprise in her tone.

"Renee," I answered her.

"She wants to have another baby?" she asked.

"Yeah, poor kid, right?"

She laughed, a real laugh, but then her face dropped.

"Renee is a great mom."

I snorted a laugh.

_Oh, tofurky…_

"Well, you turned out okay. Better than okay." Her tone was thick with implication—defensive and… proud?

Another minute of silence between us. The only sounds were cracks of wooden bats and the slaps of leather balls against leather gloves.

"What's the deal, Victoria?" I muttered finally. "Why now? What do you want from me? Why all of this…" I gestured, flipping my hand about.

She looked down at her hands before she answered me. "I missed you," she said.

I stared at her for only a second to take in her expression.

And then I laughed—maniacally.

I buried my face in my hands as I literally fell to my knees with the force of my laughter.

When I finally regained control of myself, I saw Victoria nodding. "I'm not sure I can ever explain…" she trailed off again. But then she gritted her teeth, and she asked, "Do you think James loves me?" and her voice shook slightly.

"Um, do you love him?" I asked, wondering where this was going.

"I don't know."

"You'd know."

She shook her head. "No," she countered. "I'm not sure I would."

I rolled my eyes. "You _know_ if someone loved you."

She frowned weakly. "I thought I would have but—"

But then a scream rang out across the baseball diamond.

I looked up to see James, standing in the middle of the field, clutching between his legs.

Victoria and I exchanged a brief glance, and then we ran out to the field.

James was yelling from his knees.

He was yelling at Edward.

"You fucking did that on purpose, you asshole!" His voice was quite high.

"I'm sorry. I did not. I threw the ball to Phil," Edward responded very politely.

Phil spoke up then. "Yeah, sorry about that. I missed."

Phil was fighting a smile.

Phil played baseball for a living.

He didn't _miss_.

"You fucking threw it straight at me when I wasn't looking!" James shrieked in another high pitched squeal.

"Man, watch the language… there are ladies present," Phil argued.

James gave up speaking, groaned, and keeled over onto the dirt.

Victoria turned to me. "Well, Bella, I…"

"It was good to talk," I said. I said it plainly with neither hatred nor affection. Just a simple statement.

Then, I ran over to Edward.

"What was that about?" I demanded under my breath.

Edward gave me an innocent expression.

"Edward!"

"Hmmmm…?" he murmured, his eyes twinkling. Then he ignored me and turned to Phil. "Hey, Phil do you have the stuff?"

"Yeah, I got it. You two go on ahead."

As Phil walked past us, his hand went low, and Edward fived him.

I gaped at the exchange. "You threw that ball at James on purpose, didn't you?" I whispered breathlessly as we walked away from the field.

Edward gave me a smug grin.

"How did you even know it was him…?" I trailed.

"It's sportsmanship-like behavior to exchange names," he explained immodestly.

"James is a common name," I countered.

"Your ole pal came up to say 'hi' to him before we started playing."

"So that's how you…"

"Actually, he was shitty towards her, so I wasn't completely convinced."

"Oh, really? I would have thought that'd be a solid indicator."

"Well, then he started ogling the two of you over on that bench like a fucking steak dinner—and I decided that either way he deserved it."

"And you got Phil involved, too?" I asked incredulously.

"What? You said I couldn't punch him—and Phil wanted to be 'fatherly' so…"

I gave Edward a half-assed punch in the arm.

He didn't flinch. He just smiled.

And I couldn't help it.

I smiled, too.

~ * ~


	29. Mirror, Mirror

_Disclaimer:_ Stephenie Meyer ain't the writer here—but she owns the characters.

_What I've Been Reading:_  
I've mentioned it before—but I didn't sell it. You all need to go read _Wilting_ by guineaupigbarbie. Bella staples her boss's neck tie to his chest when he makes a chauvinist remark. In order to keep her job, she has to go to work-mandated therapy. And guess who her smexy shrink is? It is HILARIOUS—and heartfelt and everything that makes a story gold.

Also, if you want a wonderful drama, read _Consecuencias_ by Gustariana—Jake/Bella are married and Jake gets it into his dumbass head that they should go to a "swingers" party. Bella goes and hates it, but she does "meet" (heh) Edward… and delicious, gorgeously written drama unfolds.

Umm… so _hic sunt leones_. Here is your penultimate chapter, and a thank you to Thallium81 and houroflead for patting me on the back and telling me to stop being such a moping idiot and reassuring me that I haven't failed you all.

* * *

~ * ~

Chapter 28:

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall…

~ * ~

The next two days passed by quickly. Renee requested mother-daughter time, and Edward, being the nice boy that he was, bowed out with an excuse about an English project and some bull about looking forward to running in a "different climate." Thus, Renee took me shopping, which I actually enjoyed—not that I would ever have made such a confession to Alice Cullen—but shopping with my mom was different. We hit up our favorite thrift stores in Phoenix, and I bought two shirts because they counted as _affordable_. We whiled away half a day in a downtown bookstore, at which I also glugged down four lattes…

And last but not least, we made a quick stop to purchase the "yellow" item that Alice had insisted upon. Before we walked into the store, I set a time limit on our stop at "Perennial Pleasures," but Renee still managed to keep me in there for an extra ten minutes as she and the sales lady debated the merits and demerits of hot tub sex. As much as I tried not to listen to the conversation, I heard far too much, and by the end of it had decided that: First, I was never ever going anywhere near the hot tub on the back porch without a four gallon bucket of Lysol. Second, one should be picky about their choices of lubricants when submerged in hot water. Third, I wondered if such tips applied to hot springs as well…

But then Saturday night rolled around, and it was sorely clear to the four of us that we needed couple-time. Even as Phil was frowning over leaving the "two kiddos home alone together," Renee was shoving him out the door in a shirtdress and bowling shoes, because apparently Renee had decided that they needed to indulge in throwing around heavy, round weapons.

"Bella, we've never been bowling," Edward mentioned as we watched Renee pull the front door shut behind them.

"I don't _bowl_."

"You don't know how?"

"No, I just refuse to break any additional lower _phalanges_—mine or yours or those of random innocents."

"I suppose..." Edward nodded to himself.

"Anyway, you want to watch a movie?"

"Is that code for making out on the sofa?"

"Sure is."

"I'm game."

~ * ~

Needless to say, twenty minutes later, Edward's hand was up my skirt, my tongue was down his throat, and_Labyrinth_ was being completely ignored on the flat screen.

Until we were interrupted by the doorbell.

"Pizza?" he asked me breathlessly.

I thumped my fist onto a pillow. "They said _forty-five_ minutes," I grumbled.

Edward stood, letting the blanket slide off of him.

Happy sigh.

_An ass never looked better in jeans._

"I'll get it," he offered, righting his shirt and attempting to smooth his untamable mop of hair.

"No. No. No. Renee already paid on her card. I just have to sign."

Edward shrugged and plopped back down on the couch, frowning slightly when he realized what movie was actually playing. I padded barefoot to the door, grabbing a pen off the kitchen counter along the way, and then I grabbed the knob, pulling the door open.

But then my pen fell from my fingers.

And I stared.

Smudged eyeliner. Battered, cracked lips. And if I had considered her hair to be in the category of "frizzy" only two days before—the storm of atomic tangerine now greeting me was nothing short of radioactive. Victoria's eyes kept shifting—flicking to my eyes and then just as quickly jerking away. Her lip quivered when she wasn't opening her mouth like she was about to speak.

But she didn't say anything.

So I did. "Uh… hi?" I acknowledged her.

She didn't look me in the eyes as she spoke.

"I slept with James."

And then she finally looked up at me.

And I saw it. The eyes of a lost friend.

Begging.

Asking me to remember and understand what this meant.

And I did.

Victoria had thrown herself onto a pike. If she had already severed her right arm by breaking with me, this was the left hacking at both legs in some barbaric ritual of penance and redemption.

"Oh—fuck," I gasped. A curse was my only intelligible reply.

And then I saw the delicate façade break, and she seemed to melt onto my front porch step, tears streaming down and her hands vanishing as they forked into the cloud of red-orange.

And what could I do, but be human? So, I sat down beside her and pulled her against me, pulling her head into the crook of my neck and breathing in the natural perfume of her skin and feeling an odd sense of memory and loss and new perspective, like the way one feels about opening up an old diary or seeing a faded picture of your mother as a young girl.

But then Victoria pulled away slightly, just enough so she could looked me in the face, though tears still tortured her eyes and their white tracks blazed out against the mottled flush on her cheeks.

"I meant it when I said I missed you," she stated with acute, earnest feeling.

"Oh, Victoria…" I sighed, unable to break our gaze.

She gave me a fragile smile in return.

And then I gave her a pat on the back. "Come on," I urged. "Inside. Not the front porch." I lifted her with me, and then when we were both standing, I grabbed her hand and pulled us both through the front door.

We stopped short in the hallway because Edward was there, his face a question mark, clearly wondering why the hell it was taking so long to sign for a pizza.

When Victoria saw Edward, she flinched and started to pull away.

I gripped her hand tighter.

Victoria resorted to examining the Jamaican themed wallpaper.

"Edward, I'm going to talk to Victoria upstairs. Could you sign for the pizza?"

He nodded. Not saying anything but asking questions with his eyes. His eyes asked, "What the fuck?" "And why is she crying?" "Is this a game?" "Are you okay with this?" "You know I love you, right?"

I answered back with a firm nod and a quick kiss on his forehead, before pulling Victoria behind me and up the steps to my room. I pushed her in the direction of my bed, before turning to shut the door.

And then I went and sat down next to her.

She was lying in the very corner of the bed, sunk back into an oversized, tan pillow.

I spoke first.

"Why?"

I grabbed a pillow and put it between my back and the window sill.

Victoria looked blankly up at the ceiling. "Why not?"

"I could think of some reasons."

_Like how your crazy-psycho-bitch mother preaches that saving yourself for marriage is the key to lifelong moral and financial success. Like how you weren't sure that you loved James. Like how you used to throw it in everyone's face how "goodly" you were…_

"Once upon a time, I could have, too," Victoria replied. Her tone was empty and bitter.

"Well, what happened?" I tried to keep my voice gentle, but impatience crept in.

She looked up then, and the frown was gone. "I told my mother that you were in town yesterday. Do you know what she asked?"

I pursed my lips. "No, but I'm sure it was lovely," I muttered sarcastically.

"Of course," Victoria said, matching my tone. "She asked if you were 'like your mother now,' and I asked her what she meant. And she said 'alone.' And I informed her that your mom wasn't alone and that she was recently remarried." Victoria fingered my comforter, tracing the lines of the patterned edge. When she continued, her voice sounded absurdly child-like. "She didn't know, you know? Not even after almost two years. I realized I'd never even talked to her about it, and she'd never asked."

"I wasn't around—so why should she have asked?"

And Victoria looked up at me, swallowing—yes, the elephant in the room still lingered, the gap between past and present, the comforting friend from the past and the bloodied traitor here in the present.

Victoria replied in an almost whisper. "She always used to ask about your mom, though," she explained.

"I know."

"She was jealous of Renee."

"Your mom is an unhappy person."

"Renee is happy?" It was a question.

I thought of Phil.

"Very, actually," I told her.

She nodded, a smile creeping onto her face. "I'm glad."

"So what did your mom say? _Why_?" I asked, trying to get back to the original question. The point.

"Well, she said _that_…" she made a funny noise. "But then she made a comment about you."

I rolled my eyes. "Just spit it out."

"She said 'she's probably a slut just like her mother.'"

"Lovely," I muttered though not remotely surprised.

"I asked her if she was happy," Victoria continued.

"She's not."

"But she said she was," Victoria whispered. "And then, you know, that's when it hit me."

"What hit you?" I asked confused.

"I asked myself the same thing. I told myself I was happy. I wasn't happy. I haven't been happy in a long time, well, since you."

I'm pretty sure that my expression in that moment amounted to a grand ole "fuck you."

But then Victoria looked down at her hands again. "That's why I slept with James, finally. I wanted to see if I was capable of caring anymore."

"And it sucked didn't it?"

"Not as much as other things—but you're right. After it was over, I still didn't care."

And then she was crying again, so I scooted up next to her so that both of our backs were against the head board, and I pulled her toward me, letting her bury her face in the crook of my neck, the heated tears dampening my chest, while I ran soothing strokes up and down her back.

After a few minutes, though, she calmed, breathing evenly against me, and I began to run my fingers through her hair, sorting out the tangled mess.

"You know, Victoria, I still don't understand."

She didn't lift her head, but spoke against me. "Don't understand what?" she asked.

"The why behind the why?"

I heard her take a deep breath, and I felt her back tense beneath my hand. She lifted her head slightly then, brushing my hair aside and then laying her head back down on my shoulder.

"I'm going to tell you this, but you're going to hate me."

I sighed. "I won't hate you. I've never hated you."

A thousand other feelings—hurt, betrayal, confusion, anger, etc.—yes, yes, and yes, but never hatred.

And then I saw the picture on the end table. I sat up, lifting both Victoria and me, and I reached over for it. I grabbed it and handed it to her. She turned on her back, leaning against me as she smiled at the captured memory. "I remember this. That ugly, pink house on the corner gave us apples, and Renee confiscated them, claiming that unwrapped Halloween candy could be from evil witches—especially apples."

I nodded, recalling along with her. "She had a problem getting me to eat apples after that. I was convinced they all were poisoned by beautiful ladies."

Victoria laughed—a lighthearted laugh.

And I couldn't help it, I smiled, too.

She held the picture in her hands as she scooted closer to me again, pressing her head into the back of my shoulder as she stared at it. I realized soon enough that though her eyes were fixed on the photo in the frame, she wasn't really looking at it. She was lost to deep thought.

"Hey, what's going on in here?" I faked a knock on her in the head.

She took a deep breath, and then she turned, settling her weight on her elbow.

She looked at me.

Straight in the eyes.

Intensely.

Like she was trying to figure out a complicated calculus problem.

Or pray for divine forgiveness

Or count the number of lashes along the arcs of my eyes.

And then she did the unexpected.

She threw a leg over me. Her hands reached up to grab my shoulders, and she pulled herself on top of me, straddling me.

And my mouth fell open in shock.

And then she pressed her lips against mine.

Aggressively but sweetly.

An act as desperate as it was doomed.

Like a kiss to awaken a lifeless princess.

And it occurred to me, even as her soft lips caressed mine, her small tongue traced the line of my bottom lip, her hips ground against mine, and her breasts pressed against my breasts, that I had missed something fundamental about my friend. Even when I had believed in a bygone time that we stood together as sisters in every sense of the term, Victoria had dreamed a different dream…

My shock did not abate.

I did not respond to the kiss.

And after a final lingering press, Victoria pulled away from me, leaning back against the wall and pulling her knees to her chest.

I think I made a sound—a squeak—a gurgle?

"I _know_. You don't have to tell me," she said.

I think I nodded.

"I'm going to talk, okay? You listen," she said, and for the first time of the day, Victoria seemed in possession of herself—even confident, but then I thought, _relief_ must have been at the core of it.

"I started going out with James two years ago because I was confused. You might even recall that once James expressed an interest, _I_ pursued him. You remember that, don't you?"

I gave another nod. I had yet to recover my voice.

"I went out with James. James kissed me, touched me, but I didn't like it—and it wasn't because of James—I liked James just fine. It was because when he touched me I imagined that he was someone else…" she looked me straight in the eyes.

I pointed at myself.

She smirked, nodding and continued, "But I knew you didn't feel the same—I knew. But then there was one day. I was home and I was in my room—and I was—well—God—you'll fucking hate me—but Bella—I was touching myself."

I pursed my lips, nodding. The irony wasn't lost on me.

"I was touching myself, and my mom let James in the house, and James came up to my room, but I didn't hear him, so when I _came,_ and it wasn't his name that I said—he had something to say about it."

My mouth was shaped in an "oh."

_Oh, fuck._

"James thought it would be hot to have both of us at the same time. He told me that it would be hot for me, too, and I told him to fuck off naturally—I told him you wouldn't want that—that you deserved more."

Somewhere in there, I finally found my voice. "Victoria… you should have just told me," I whispered. "Even if I didn't feel exactly the same—you were my friend—I mean, I loved you, even if I wasn't in...well…in love…with you."

She looked away but then gave me a weak smile before speaking again, "But then I got his note—after cheerleading practice—he said he was going to find you—and tell you—convince you, even. And so I rushed, not even realizing that Laura was following me. And then I arrived—and he was there—and you were there. And my first thought—at the other end of the hallway was a stupid burst of hope—but then you yelled at him—and then he let you go—and he called me out—told _me_ to forgive _you_—and I'd thought he'd told you—it was only later that I figured it out—but you wouldn't have talked to me then…" Victoria looked down at her hands, playing with thin fingers, wringing her hands almost on beat.

"Why did you stay with James?"

She shrugged, "He never said it, but there was always the underlying threat he'd tell everyone—my mom—my dad—my church—you."

"Why did you sleep with him?"

She shrugged. "Same reason I kissed you."

I looked at her in utter confusion.

"I decided that if I were to fall, I should fall all the way down."

"What the fuck?"

She gave me a level look. "I wanted to stop hating myself. For what I did to you. Even if you're okay now—and I'm glad you're okay. I wanted to stop caring about what I wasn't doing—and start caring about what I was doing. Also, I don't know… I wanted to see if it would change anything—with James."

I wanted to blurt a hundred thoughts, but I settled for asking, "Did it?"

"No—when he finished—after all of two minutes and twenty-two seconds—I counted," she snorted laugh, clapping her hand over her mouth.

I laughed along with her.

"Anyway—when he finished—I stood up—and I said," she took a long breath. "'I'm glad that's done,' and I left. I walked out the door, and I left. He just sat on the bed, staring after me. And I have to say—that felt good. Just leaving like that," she said with a final nod.

I reached down and picked up her hand. I gave it a squeeze.

And then we sort of just stared each other, not accusing or awkward or distant but just us.

"It'll get better," I told her.

"You had to go away," she said.

"I'm glad I did."

And I smiled, because I was thinking of Edward and the Cullens.

"Maybe I should go somewhere…" she murmured contemplatively.

And then we talked as friends—about the future, college, everything—and I was surprised when I heard a knock on the door—and even more surprised when I saw that the sun had almost completely set—my room had grown mostly dark.

"Pizza?" asked a very curious Edward, sticking his head in.

"We'll be right down," I answered.

Edward nodded and then closed the door behind him.

Victoria and I stood.

"Bella, I should be going, actually. I should get home."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah—but do you think we could still talk, email, call, whatever?" she asked carefully.

I smiled. "Sure. We can talk."

She smiled back at me.

And then there was silence.

But then another thought occurred to me, because he was staring me in the face.

"I want you to have someone."

Victoria gave me a questioning look.

And then I went and picked up Gnome—his face still as grumpy as ever with two hands firmly gripping his terracotta axe.

"This is Gnome," I introduced her.

"Hi, Gnome," she returned, grinning at both me and my clay friend.

"I want you to have him."

"Really?" she giggled.

"Well, he took good care of me in my time of need—and I think he'll take care of you, too."

She laughed. "Okay," she agreed, and then she reached for him.

I held him back for only a second, giving her a warning look. "You _swear_ to take care of him, and if you go away—especially to anywhere cool—you swear to take pictures of him and send them to me?"

Victoria smiled warmly at me, because such swearing had been a natural part of our childhood friendship, and she held up her right hand in solemn promise. "I do swear on all accounts, Bella."

"He's in your care then." I handed Gnome to Victoria.

And then we walked downstairs.

Edward was sitting on the couch, chewing on a piece of pizza and watching David Bowie on the screen with a most bewildered expression. He gave me another "look" as I walked Victoria to the door with Gnome clasped in her arms.

"Bye, Victoria." I held the door open for her.

She stared at me for only a second, before shooting a glance over at Edward, and then she smacked a kiss on my lips before turning to head out the door.

A final wave and she was around the corner.

I closed the door.

I turned to see an utterly agog Edward.

I lightly scratched the back of my head.

"So, yeah…"

~ * ~

* * *

And just one more bit of **love**, you guys are the best readers ever—and while I suspect this is part because all of the annoying tweenies are scared off by the very topic of m-a-s-t-u-r-b-a-t-i-o-n in the prologue—I wanted to say that your reviews, from silly gnome stories to kissing disasters to anecdotes about spitting your drinks at the computer screen, make me laugh my ass off. Of course, some of you (between two and three thousand - yes, only 3-4% review) I've never heard from, so I wrote you "silent types" a poem. So, *ahem* here's a poem to you, _you_ for whom I write for free but do not know:

~ * ~

The lurking reader

In the lost world of interwebs  
around the sea of fiction land  
stories float and fandom boats  
splash & crash on cyber-sand.

An alert on the one, two,  
a favorite on the three, four,  
but a review?! Duck silent—do!  
—muted murmurs 'neath the roar.

A lurking reader is unnamed  
anonymous, statistical blip  
not google spider, not server check  
but phantom rider on ghost ship.

We speak alive, scream our words  
with pen and type like sword and scythe  
and yet ye disappear as fair folk do  
smiling but shying, fading—flying

cyber-slurps unto the night.

~ * ~

(heh. heh. heh.)

~ * ~


	30. Nymph Hops Away

_Disclaimer:_ Twilight ain't mine. I play.

So, my friends, this is the end.

_What I've Been Reading:_  
Ummm... entries for the Bellies and Eddies, cuz I like to be fair. They're all conveniently collected on both the website (see my profile) and a C2 under limona's name.

Bidness:  
Voting is open for the Eddies/Bellies. So you can vote for Gnome now. The link is on my profile. Also, www(dot)thecatt(dot)net.

I hope you all enjoy. I'm all emo about the end. But all good things come to an end, right? Or they just don't end and just flounder - and I feel that is worse. Also, the epilogue should post by tomorrow morning, if not later tonight.

* * *

*

~*~

~ * ~

Chapter: The End

In Which the Nymph Hops Away

~ * ~

~*~

*

I was pulling Edward through the woods, up the trail, past the primeval birch hags, and through the meadow.

The last week had been one of note.

Emmett had continually winked at Edward after our trip, asking, "Got anything _new_ to be _thank_ful for Eddo? Thanks_giving_ is about _thank_fulness and _giving_ some…" He never got to finish that phrase before Rosalie slapped him.

To say that Alice was ecstatic over her yellow Rabbit... well, that would have been an understatement. She leapt on Jasper more than usual—and insisted upon everyone being adorned in "posh, citrus colors" for school—and to top it all, when I insisted upon a t-shirt one morning, she actually _caved_.

I made up with Jake over chitchat at the Diner on Tuesday, an event for which Edward failed to conceal his peevishness. But whatever. On top of being a good—if somewhat overzealous—friend, Jake had saved Gnome, and most importantly, Jake understood the proper importance of a bacon cheeseburger on the odd Tuesday afternoon…

Edward and I discussed Victoria, and all of the rest of it, and I could tell he was fighting against making jokes or innuendos—but he knew the topic was too raw at the moment, so he lovingly refrained, though it remained obvious via the occasional smirk that he was _thinking_ about it…

I had exchanged a tear-filled goodbye with Renee and Phil at the airport on Sunday afternoon. I had "filled-in" my mother on the outcome of events with Victoria, and she had insisted upon taking Victoria out for coffee to chat later that week. Renee had also insisted upon shoving boxes of various unmentionables into my and Edward's luggage. I had yelled my head off, but eventually given up and given in to the idea that I would just have to unpack in private. I encouraged Edward to do the same.

~ * ~

And in the aftermath of everything, I had made a decision.

I loved Edward. He loved me. That was fucking real. And I didn't want to wait another minute.

So I was dragging him through the woods.

Not that he was protesting or anything—but he seemed rather unnerved by my ferocity.

And then we were there—here—at my place—_our_ place—standing in front of the top wall of the grotto.

I pulled off my hoodie first, but then Edward stopped me.

"Don't rush," he whispered, and then he slid his hand behind my waist, pulling me against him. His other hand found the back corner of my jaw and brought my lips just a hair's breadth away from his. He kissed the edge of my mouth first, but then when I tried to kiss him back, he backed away.

"Wait. Hold still. Eyes closed," he ordered, even as he smirked.

I grumbled at him, but he ignored me and kissed my eyelids and temples and ran a trail of kisses under the line of my jawbone, and when a stray tendril stickered itself to the late day stubble on the underside of his chin, he carefully unstuck it and pushed it behind my ear.

But then I simply couldn't take it anymore, so I pulled him to me, palm on the ass and fingers fisted in hair, coaxing lips open and letting our tongues play peek-a-boo and our lower halves grind like cogs on a gear. And then our hands slid upwards in tandem, peeling off the fabric like flimsy but troublesomely sticky fruit skin, and then his chest was bare and shivering and mine remained covered only by the thin, blue bikini, but as long as I clung to him and he to me—skin to skin—the cold was kept at bay.

But then Edward seemed to abandon the "not rushing" theme, and he pulled at my jeans button as I tugged on his pants, and then his fingers moved deftly to unzip and tug, and then I swiveled my hips, and he kicked, and our bottoms collapsed, pooled puddles beneath our toes.

And then my hand caught his, and I towed him to the edge.

Together we leapt.

And splashed, causing the otherwise placid pool to erupt in a fizzy frenzy, like the sweet blast of champagne bubbles, though the air smelled rusty and dank, a mix of sulfur and rich moss and forest musk. The warmth of the bath stilled our shivers.

Edward found his balance first and waded to me, wrapping his arms around me in a full circle while softly exhaling and inhaling into the crook of my neck.

"Bella?" her murmured, my name alone—a loaded question.

I grinned at him. "Edward?" I replied, pulling my head back to better kiss his temple.

"I just…" he trailed.

"It's okay, Edward. We don't have to do anything you're not ready for. I don't want to _rush_ us," I assured with a playful smirk.

I got an eye roll in response, and then he popped a kiss on my mouth to shut me up.

It worked.

And then he inelegantly yanked my hips upward so his mouth could channel a trail along my collar bone while my hands gripped his shoulders and my lips found the furrows in his forehead, and then I craved his mouth, so I ensnared his bottom lip between my two. And then we were drinking each other in amid the mist. Steeping our bodies in the rippling pool.

And then it hit.

The moment of mutual intuition.

Because I knew him, and he knew me.

There may have been a subtle nod.

A flush of pink.

A twinkling emerald eye.

Or none at all.

Just souls' telepathy.

Thus magical fingers tugged at the string on my back.

My hands nudged slick fabric down past hip bones.

Fabric floated, sporty green tangled with blue strings like tentacles, suspended on the surface for a long second until it all together capsized, folding and sinking into the clear shallows.

And the intimacy scared while it enthralled. So I kissed and touched with more teeth and nails and snap and lick—and Edward did the same, pulling and nipping and teasing and hunting down hidden corners.

And hands journeyed lower.

Dancing, watery teases.

And then firmer and more urgent caresses.

But then there was another exchange of the eyes.

A joke recalled.

_Two minutes and twenty-two seconds._

"Five minutes at least, Bella," Edward murmured.

I didn't laugh, though I'd laughed about it before.

Instead, I grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the waterfall.

And then my hand dropped his, though he tried to reclaim the contact.

I let go, swimming away, and stepped into the cascade's wet embrace.

My back turned to Edward, my fingers found the knot in my hair, and I pulled. My hair fell loose. And the water untwisted the tendrils and swept them down my back. And the water caressed my breasts, my shoulders, my hips…

I heard Edward behind me.

"Bella?" he whispered. The question as naked as the two of us. I turned, faced him. He tried to catch me against him again, but I pushed him, pressing him to sit upon my preferred smooth rock.

And then edge of the fall lapped at the both of us, and I sat down, too, my back to Edward's chest.

"Bella?" He still didn't get it.

"Kiss me," I insisted, and I pointed to a spot on my shoulder.

He did.

And then I got down to my business.

My hand started at my knee.

Swept along my thigh.

And then, I touched myself, trailing my fingers up and down.

And Edward, lips still pressed onto my shoulder, gave a long groan.

And then a "fuck, Bella."

I had known that Edward wanted this—to see—but his response was tenfold. Teeth dragged on my shoulder, hand palmed at my breast, fingers pinched and thumb pressed at my nipple, and a gasped series of curses spilled out, including the p-word.

"Fucking beautiful. Gorgeous, wet—you're touching your—Bella—Bella pussy—oh fuuuuhck…"

But I was still nervous—tense, but not in a good way—in a stage fright sort of way.

Not the path to orgasmic success.

So I murmured, "Not yet—just soft."

And Edward transitioned seamlessly, cutting off the curses and bites and changing to lingering, massaging kisses and a low lullaby humming out from deep from within his throat.

And I relaxed almost immediately.

And the sensation of Edward behind me and the tingling touches of my fingers between my legs fell into sync, and instead of the flame and dagger ripping down my spine—it was a tingling, trickling simmer from head to toe, and a satin waltz gripping the muscles in my stomach.

And, too, there was the flowing water.

Brushing, hushed susurrus chanting in harmony with Edward's humming and breathed kisses.

And then like a dream, the world seemed to fall asunder and diffuse.

My blinking eyes saw liquid and rock and skin and hair and weed and black flying beetle. My body felt Edward's right hand methodically rolling my nipple between thumb and index finger and the rhythmic brush of his cock as he stroked himself behind me.

That was all there.

But it wasn't either.

Because my mind danced away to a different realm, a floating galaxy, where we sailed along like invisible orbs—rippling along with the lilting rhapsody and drowning in dark euphoria.

Never needing air.

And by Edward's tensed thighs and long groan behind me, I knew that he had come. And when his hand reached around me and poked a finger inside of me, I didn't stop him. And magical fingers flew in and out while my fingers swirled above and my free hand braced myself on Edward's knee.

A great unrolling of an avalanche.

The smashing crackle of sea shells.

And then the balloons popped.

Smithereens.

White wine overflowing its decanter.

A long moan from me.

Slumping forward.

And water infiltrated my eyes, causing me to jerk back and into Edward.

Who caught me.

Turned me.

Kissed me.

Lips melting like honeycomb and tongues sucking at cavernous nectar. Hips pressing in synchronization and symmetry, and then the sensation of my wet against his hard—he was ready—I was ready.

We both nodded.

And then he flipped me.

Pressing my back into the warmed, smooth stone.

And water trailed down his back.

And his shoulders.

And he trapped me in a kiss.

My legs wrapped around him.

Edward looked me in the eyes. "Bella, are you...?"

"Trying not to focus on the bad part?" I offered.

"Bad part?"

"I'm a girl," I hinted.

"But that's a good thing," he insisted, a bit slyly even.

"For you." I tried to roll my eyes, but it didn't really work. I was breathing too heavily.

"Would you rather you were a dude, right now?" He had decided to tease me.

"Eh, no..." I trailed.

"Bella, I'll take care of you," he promised. A whisper.

I unfolded into his reassuring smile.

And then it was happening. His hand guided him. He pressed.

I gasped.

He entered.

And I cringed, tensed, flinched. All of the above. It didn't sting or tear or hurt—but it tugged and shocked.

And Edward stopped.

And he kissed, long and slow, and gently—though the subtle uptake of excitement was obvious at the finish of every exhale.

And we found each other again.

Melted.

But he still hadn't moved.

So my heels pushed him deeper.

And we both gasped.

Because there was a new sensation.

And then he moved slowly.

Filling and emptying.

And we made love.

And we didn't say words but spoke with high whine and low moan and gasped echo and onomatopoeia.

With eyes and lips above and male and female below.

In and out.

And Edward reached down to touch my clit, making me gasp.

Still sensitive from before, and Edward's touch was making it red hot now.

And my body stiffened, solidified. Became iron and reed.

I wrenched Edward's hand a way, and gasped a demand in his ear, "harder."

And then my face dove into the crook of his neck, my back flexed into the round stone, and Edward banged against me, hard and fast like the finale of the bass drum.

And I was washed away, rolling like caught in a wave and skirting along the sandy ocean bed and flipping through the current with dashes of oxygen from the surface.

And finally unfolding, unrolling, spinning out of the cockle.

Awakening with sleepy breaths on a gentle shore.

Sighs of release came from both of us.

"I love you," I murmured.

"I love you. Fucking beautiful," Edward whispered.

And we held each other tightly.

A gentle kiss.

And the grotto around us lost none of its magic. The mist stayed ghostly and effervescent. And the falling water continued to sing out the lullaby.

And then.

A flash of movement.

A mottled brown.

My eyes focused to spy Sir Frog sitting on a rock on the other side of the waterfall.

I giggled against Edward's chest.

"What?" he murmured, staring curiously into my eyes.

I didn't speak. I pointed.

Edward turned, and we both studied the uncrowned lord.

"_RIB-BIT_" was all Sir Frog said.

~ * ~

~*~

*

* * *

Epilogue will be up soooooon! I'll say more there.


	31. Epilogue

_Disclaimer:_ Stephenie Meyer ain't the writer here—but she owns the characters.

Okay, thanks are in order - even as I get all teary-eyed.  
Thank you's go out to Thallium81, amercnxidiot, and houroflead for their beta'ing help (They put up with my interrogations.) on these last two chaps. And a big, fat thank you to withthevampsofcourse for being fucknice and letting me bounce ideas off her, encouraging me with Gnome, and pimping m'story back in the day when only 20 people were reading it.

And to you my lovely readers... y'all are the best. Here's the last bit.

* * *

~ * ~

Epilogue:

In Which I Still Fail to Adequately Explain Myself

~ * ~

So, I am sitting at my computer desk.

There's no waterfall here.

Although Enya is rocking the room hardcore.

But there is a webcam. And my roommate is gone for the day.

And my sweaty boyfriend-lover-soul mate is smirking cockily at me through the video feed on my computer screen.

And my knees are bent and heels resting on the edge of my chair. I'm wearing a skirt. No panties, but Edward says that just improves the show—the skirt, I mean. If I wore panties, there would be no show.

Which is beyond dirty.

But fuck you—it's my business…and Edward's. Well, some of the time. Otherwise it is just my business—which I'm comfy with saying now, too.

I'm an English major at Dartmouth, and he's studying Politics at Harvard. That's a fucking two hour drive. I actually got accepted to MIT—science stuff—but I went to my floofy liberal arts college anyway.

Edward grumbled about that but understood. Hence, he bought me the webcam. I see him in-person on the weekends. And on the occasional week night. And the other times he's cyberhot on the e-screen.

And on the holidays we see each other, too. In Forks. We see his family, Charlie. And in Pheonix, we see Renee, Phil, and my little brother, Scotty—kid looks just like Phil.

Oh.

And we see the waterfall.

Of course.

The waterfall...

If only it could happen to every girl.

~ * ~

The End

~ * ~


	32. EdwOuttake 1: Edward Goes For a Run

Disclaimer: I'm a fraud. Stephanie Meyer is the ho with the copyright. End of line.

I promised I'd eventually write outtakes, and here we go. The tone for Edward's POV is not Bella-funny. Edward really isn't snarky to me. Thus, it is sorta written in vignette-y bits with a lot of irony. Either way, though, writing this was fun for me. I missed this crazy little fic.

* * *

Edward Outtake #1: In Which Edward Goes for a Run

* * *

Edward was running.

Past Red Alder.  
Through Oak Fern.  
He hurdled over Rattlesnake Plantain and Coastal Gumweed.

He remembered when they had first arrived in Forks.  
He had delighted in learning the names of local flora:

_Hooker's onion.  
Farewell to Spring.  
Kinnikinnik.  
Bog rosemary._

Then Esme had married Carlisle.  
His friends became his family.  
And he had Carlisle.  
A _real_ father.

The whole family would go on treks through the woods together.  
They were so happy then.  
Emmett thumping like a grizzly.  
Alice climbing trees.  
Rosalie carrying a hatchet in one hand and a bouquet in the other.  
Jasper with map and compass and Boy Scout manual.

But now, such treks were a relic of childhood.  
They never did them anymore.  
And why would they?

Emmett had Rose.  
Alice had Jasper.  
Esme and Carlisle were lost in each other.

But Edward was the outsider.

So he ran.

Just him and the ferns and the moss and the sky.

He ran because it made him forget.

Because when he pushed himself it burned.  
His quads on fire.  
The sweat threatening to sting his eyes.

Running made it easier.

* * *

No one explained to Edward that what it meant for a _man _to be beautiful.  
Not just good-looking.  
Nor dashing and attractive.

Beautiful.

Edward was beautiful.

He started noticing it around the time he turned fifteen.  
Girls started to look at him.  
Older girls.  
Then girls his own age and younger.  
And then women.  
Some men did, too.

If a woman was beautiful, men came to her.  
She could sit back.  
They would woo her.  
If a man was beautiful, the order was disrupted.  
A man was supposed to use his beauty.  
He could be an asshole.  
He could ask a woman, and the yes would be implicit.  
No one explained to Edward that beauty was to be possessed.

You weren't supposed to ignore your own beauty.

Rosalie was the one he took him aside one day.

"Edward you need to get a girlfriend," she had said.

"But I don't like anyone."

"Well, like someone," she replied. Then she left.

So the girls had come to him.  
Tanya was the first.  
She shoved her tongue down his throat.  
She tasted like baking soda and soy.  
Her teeth clicked against his.  
A sharp edged tooth caught his gum line.

It hurt.

And then her tongue found his and pushed against it.  
He was so shocked he didn't know what to do about it.  
He was pretty sure his gum was bleeding.  
He tasted blood.  
But Tanya didn't stop.  
Edward tried not to gag.  
Though he wanted to.  
If he moved, he'd punch her across the room.  
She was as tall as he was, but she still...

He could hurt her.

He would never hurt a woman.  
His dad had hurt his mother.  
He was not his father.  
He wanted to be like Carlisle.  
Edward was locked in rigor mortis.

When she pulled away there was a string of spit.  
Edward had mumbled something about going to the bathroom.  
He had run.

Being the outsider was better than suffering _that_.

* * *

Edward slowed when he entered the meadow.

He bent over.

He clutched his knees.

He breathed.

He let the endorphins do their dirty work.

And he felt it all fall away.

* * *

Emmett had left some DVDs on his bed one day.

The first was labeled:  
Edward_needs_to_chill_ . avi

Edward hadn't wanted to watch at first.

But.

_Curiosity._

Eventually he caved.

He slid the DVD into the player.  
Edward watched the first thirty seconds with an open mouth.  
Then Edward had locked his bedroom door.  
And then he had curled up in his bed.  
Under the sheets in his bed.  
Eyes glued to the screen.  
Volume turned low—but not too low.

The girl on the screen.  
Black hair. Pale skin. Red lips.  
She was wearing a blue dress.  
Only a dress.  
There was nothing underneath the dress.  
Edward discovered this when she collapsed with bad drama on a piano bench.  
Her legs were spread wide.  
He could see... everything.

Edward had never been so turned on his life.

But then the man had come into the room.  
That annoyed Edward.  
The brute was blocking the view.  
But then the man had grabbed the edges of the woman's skirt.  
He had yanked her to the edge of the bench.  
Then he started touching the woman.  
First just with hands and fingers.  
But then he untied the front of the dress.  
And began sucking.  
And licking.  
Down and down and down.  
The woman shrieked when he buried his face between her legs.  
At first Edward was alarmed.  
But then he realized...  
It was a _good _shriek.  
The woman moaned and moaned.

_God, the… sounds she was making.  
Better than Beethoven._

Edward's hand was down his track shorts.

Down and up.

Up and down.

Edward imagined he was that man.

When the woman gave her final cry…  
Edward gave an equally long groan.  
He speckled his sheets.

But then Edward had put in the second DVD:  
Edward_needs_to_chill_2 . avi

After two shocked minutes, Edward left his room.  
He went to Emmett's.  
He punched him in the shoulder.

"Fuck, man! Just giving you options." Emmett had yelped.

Edward had stopped and stared. "I don't like cock."

Emmett turned back to him with a bemused expression.

"Dude, man, no reason to get all huffy. Just trying to help."

"Fuck you!"

"Well, at least you know you like the pussy, now."

"Very clever Emmett—yes. I like the _pussy_," he hissed back.

Edward figured out how to navigate the internet on his own after that.  
Real girls terrified him.  
All eager jaws and painted claws.

But fantasy was to be found in safe places, too.

* * *

Edward lay back against a tree at the edge of his meadow.  
He was sipping at his water bottle.  
The breeze felt good as it fluttered over his overheated skin.  
The powdery scents of wild flowers and the clean smell of grass filled the air.  
Edward felt free here.

It was so quiet.

He was so relaxed that he'd begun to drift off when he heard the sound.  
The approaching padding of feet.  
He tensed.  
His senses on high alert.  
There were some larger predators on the peninsula...

And then he saw the figure moving through the trees.  
At first all he saw was the flickering white.  
Flashing bright then dark among the trees.  
Then pale legs and arms in contrast with dark hair.  
And then she emerged at the far end of the meadow.  
Running with wings.  
Edward stared.

And then just like that, she was gone again.  
Fading into the woods on the other side of the meadow.

Edward stood and started across the meadow.  
But then stopped himself.

If he found her, he'd probably _scare _her.  
But then, he thought, a lone girl in the woods...

_Not safe?_

He began to run.  
For if he didn't, he might lose her.  
He slowed once he entered the forest.

He'd never been to this side of the meadow before.

The meadow had always been his final destination.  
It was different here.

Up ahead he heard the sounds of water.

He ground to a halt when he saw the first discarded sandal.  
Then its twin three feet up.  
At the edge of the wall—a crumpled white dress.

Later he would blame his hormones.

He didn't race ahead but instead moved step by step.  
He heard gentle splashing below.  
Crouching low in the ferns, he moved forward.  
She was wearing a bikini.

This made him both relieved and disappointed.

She was moving around the pool slowly.  
Playing slightly.  
Humming to herself and trailing her hands in the water.  
Bobbing deep and rising above.  
It made no sense.  
And that made him smile.  
The scene was innocent and child-like, he thought.  
—though she was no child:  
Her lips were too full.  
She had a tiny waist but subtle curves.

_Fucking beautiful_, Edward thought with awe.

He was caught off guard when she stopped swimming.  
She pushed off the rocky bottom.  
Gliding to the far side of the pool.  
To the waterfall.

From his vantage point, Edward could see her profile better.  
But the mist was foggier.  
He leaned forward slightly.  
Trying to see.

He froze when he saw her hands move.  
It was where they moved to that made him freeze.  
He almost fell over when he heard the first moan.  
The moans hit him in his gut and moved straight down...  
Edward had never seen, heard anything so erotic in his life.

_Fucking beautiful._

But then he adjusted his foot.  
Onto a stick.  
A mighty **crack**.

And then he saw her head snap up.  
As he threw himself back.  
He fell back into the maze of green.

And then he stood and ran.  
He ran for his life.  
He ran because he was embarrassed.  
He ran because he felt _alone_.

But also, because for the first time...

He didn't want to be.

* * *

Real Life Book Rec: If you like vignettes and gorgeous overcome-the-odds, carthartic goodness, then I recommend you read _Sold_ by Patricia McCormick. Yes, it's about child prostitution in South Asia, but it's also a beautiful story. It's not about the pain—although there is pain. It's about the triumph.


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